A New Kind of Normal
by MidnightAmant
Summary: Post-War: What if Ginny's grief over the loss of her brother pushed Harry away? What if Hermione's anger with Ron over his abandoning them in the forest during their Horcrux hunt was something that couldn't be remedied? At a loss with how to deal with their partners, and how to deal with their new normal of a post-war world, Harry and Hermione turn to each other for support.
1. Chapter 1

**A New Kind of Normal**

 **Summary:** Post-War: What if Ginny's grief over the loss of her brother pushed Harry away? What if Hermione's anger with Ron over his abandoning them in the forest during their Horcrux hunt was something that couldn't be remedied? At a loss with how to deal with their partners, and how to deal with their new normal of a post-war world, Harry and Hermione turn to each other for support.

 ** _Characters and events may be AU/OOC._**

 **Chapter One**

The war was over.

Hermione walked as if in a daze along with the other surviving students and the adults who had helped to the train that would take them to platform 9 3/4 . There was a hesitant touch on her arm, and even though it barely made contact, she'd jumped as if electrocuted. She spun around to see Harry slightly behind her, arm outstretched.

"Hey." Harry said. Hermione took a close look at him as he'd been rather quiet in the days they'd spent here to start rebuilding the school. He had dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't been sleeping. His hair needed a trim again, the wayward strands falling into his eyes, which seemed to be on empty. No emotion. Hermione linked her arm around his and drew him closer so they could walk together.

"Hey." She'd noticed him looking at her, too. As if concerned, even if his eyes didn't hold their usual shine when he looked at someone he considered family.

"You okay?"

"I was about to ask you that." Hermione loosed a soft chuckle, the sliver of happiness she felt at just merely being alive not sitting right with her.

So many dead.

So much destruction. She looked back at the castle, to what little she could see of it in the distance. Harry followed her gaze.

"It's going to take a while to rebuild." He remarked. Hermione nodded.

"It always seemed like this impenetrable fortress. It's just… weird to see it in so much rubble." Hermione sighed, and turned her head as she saw a flare of red hair in her peripheral vision. Ginny had caught up to them, and Harry stretched out a hand to her, which she readily accepted, sending a warm, if shaky smile his way.

"Hey, you two." Ginny said.

"Hey Gin." Hermione sent her a smile.

"It feels weird, leaving the school like this, doesn't it? No meeting in the Great Hall, no speech, no House Cup…." Ginny drifted off and Harry tugged on her hand to bring her closer to him so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah it does. But we're safe and going home. So that's good." Harry murmured to her. Ginny turned to look at Hermione.

"Mum told me to tell you that you're welcome to stay as long as you want. You too, Harry."

"Your Mum is wonderful." Harry said.

"Tell her I say thank you. Hopefully I'll be able to find my parents – I want to get that started as soon as I can."

"Well, if you need help…." Harry drifted off.

"Thank you. That means a lot."

"Harry! Hermione! Gin!" Hermione turned around to see Ron jogging toward them. He gave them all a small smile. He reached out and snagged his hand around Hermione's waist, joining them all in a line. Hermione glanced up at Ron. His eyes were still red and puffy, standing out against his pale skin. He was still very upset about Fred. She rested her head on his shoulder, which made walking difficult, but they all managed, bumping against one another as they tried to find the right rhythm,

"Where's your brother?" Hermione asked. Ron loosed a huge sigh. The train was now visible just ahead.

"Mum and Dad are with him. They haven't let him out of their sight since… you know."

'That's understandable. Let's get onto the train." Hermione murmured. Hagrid was helping people get on and they trooped over to him, separating as the crowd bottle-necked. Harry and Ginny stuck together as did Ron and Hermione.

"Hey, you four!" Hagrid's large form overwhelmed them all as he engulfed them into a hug.

"Hey Hagrid."

"Are you staying to help rebuild the castle?" Hermione asked. Hagrid's black eyes were warm as they looked in her direction.

"I am! Hogwarts is my home. Need ta see it back to the way it was, ya know? You all write me, okay?"

"We will." Harry nodded

"Good! Be safe." They all noticed as Hagrid finished his farewell that fat tears rolled down into his wiry beard. Ron let go of Hermione to pat him on the elbow, the highest he could reach.

"We will, Hagrid. We'll write, too, don't worry. We'll see if we can come visit, too, okay?" Ron was tightly clutched to Hagrid's chest as his shoulders shook, overcome with emotion.

"You're a good man, Ron. I'll miss all a'yah. Go on, then." Hagrid ushered them all onto the train. They soon found an empty car and sat down. The atmosphere was so empty and sad, so different from how it usually was at the end of a year; no kids running up and down the train, trying out the newest toy; girls crying as they professed how much they'd miss one another; boys roughhousing and yelling. All was silent now.

So much had changed. Hermione watched as Harry and Ginny settled down beside one another and immediately fell asleep, using each other's shoulder and head as pillows, respectively. Ron glanced over at her.

"You tired?" Hermione shrugged.

"Not really. I think I'll just look out the window for a little while. You can sleep if you want." Hermione patted his leg. Ron nodded and rested his head against the back of the padded seat. Hermione leaned her head against the window and watched as the landscape drifted by.

"Can't sleep?" Harry's voice drifted across the seat after a time. Hermione glanced over at him; his eyes were bleary with the sleep he couldn't seem to get.

"Don't want to." Hermione murmured.

"I get that. I wish I could sleep as soundly as those two."

"Me too." Silence befell them again as the train raced toward London.

 **A/N: Okay, so yet another new fanfic, and a new pairing! This is for you, Emeroni! Ask and ye shall receive. Next chapter - at The Burrow!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

They all apparated a few minutes away from the hill upon which The Burrow sat. Molly screeched her indignation.

"The nerve of those miscreants! How dare they-while we're trying to get home-" Arthur put his arm around his wife as he started to lead her away from the apparition point and toward home.

"They don't care about us, just a paycheck. Forget about them, dear. Let's get home.

"I can put up more wards? To keep them out? I'm sure the property is sufficiently warded, but a few more wouldn't hurt?" Hermione ventured hesitantly, not wanting to step on anyone's toes. Arthur, still walking toward home, sent Hermione a faint smile.

"That would be very kind of you, Hermione."

"I'll help. It'll go faster with two people." Harry offered. Hermione looked at him and nodded.

"It would, thanks." They walked in quiet the rest of the way to the house, and what they saw stopped them in their tracks: reporters from every type of paper and gossip-rag were gathered just outside the property. Hermione could see that ahead of them, Molly was trembling with anger. Ron stepped forward, in front of his parents. Anger contorted his fae as he put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly enough to garner the horde's attentions. As the gaggle turned, Hermione stepped forward and waved her wand.

"Incendio!" A rectangular strip of fire shot toward the crowd, who shouted and parted for the fire, creating a path for the family. The middle of the flames died until all that was left were two strips of flame, enough for two people to walk abreast between the walls of flame. They all ignored the shouts the reporters threw at them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, if you could go first; Harry and Ginny, next. Ron and George, if you could go after them. I need to go last to keep the spell up." Hermione murmured, eyes on the spell, wand aloft. They made slow progress up the fiery path, but when they finally reached the property, Hermione let the spell go.

"You still okay to do the wards, Hermione?" Harry turned to her, wand in his hand.

"Yeah, let's do them. Just the repelling ones, not the ones that hide us. We don't want any muggles calling the police about a house disappearing." Hermione murmured. Harry nodded and jogged around to the back of the house. He sent up green sparks to indicate he was ready. Hermione started moving her wand in a complex manner, muttering words under her breath.

"Salvio Hexia… Protego Totalum… you can go inside, this is going to take a while… Muffliato… Salvio Hexia…." On and on it went. She assumed that the others had gone inside, and soon enough, when Hermione spoke with none of the press, they left as well. Hermione finished first, and she wandered over to where Harry was finishing his last round of spells. He turned to face her, and his brows drew together.

"You should go upstairs and sleep, Hermione. You look like death warmed over." They walked together toward the front steps of The Burrow. Hermione guffawed.

"Yeah, thanks Harry. That's definitely what I want to hear." Harry made a disgruntled noise in the face of her words.

"I mean – Hermione, you didn't sleep on the train, then you did that spell before warding the house, and then you warded the house. That takes a lot out of people."

"As long as you get some sleep too. Don't say you're any better than me in the exhausted department." Harry nodded.

"Fine. We both sleep then, okay?"

"Agreed." Hermione pushed open the door and stopped in the foyer. There were no sounds of the sink or the cutting board; no aromatics from the kitchen of cooking food; no laughter from a full house; the fire wasn't eating up the kindling merrily like it usually did. It was silent. Harry nearly bumped into her and had to quickly sidestep.

"Hermione, what-oh blimey."

"Yeah…" Hermione walked further into the foyer and into the kitchen, where she halted in the entryway. Molly and Arthur were seated at the kitchen table, each huddled over a cup of tea. Molly looked up, as if seeing something move in her peripheral vision.

"Oh, Hermione, Harry. Thank you so much for adding to the wards around the property. That was so nice of you, dears. Oh, we should be having dinner about now, shouldn't we? Let me see if I can cobble together something." Hermione held her hands out to stop Molly from getting up.

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley, I'm just going to go to bed." She turned to go toward the stairs and nearly ran over Ginny, who was coming into the kitchen. Her eyes were red, as if she'd been crying.

"Oh, sorry Hermione." At Ginny's apology, Harry turned to her and seemed to notice her previous crying. He rested a hand on her shoulder and brought her in for a hug, which she returned fiercely.

"No, no, my fault. I'm just going to go upstairs and sleep. Night." As Hermione moved up the stairs, he could hear Ginny speaking into the kitchen.

"I'll make dinner, Mum. Don't worry."

"I'll help. Just tell me what to do." Harry's voice drifted off as he followed Ginny into the kitchen. The comforting sounds of cutlery and pots and pans filled the room and reached her ears on the second level, bringing a kind of relief.

Relief that was immediately shot down once she walked by Harry and Ron's room. Ron was sitting on his bed, slumped as he looked at something in his hands. Hermione knocked on the door and Ron jumped, swiping an arm across his eyes.

"Hey, Hermione." Ron said after clearing his throat a few times. She didn't respond right away. She was overcome, pulled in two polar directions. On the one hand, she wanted to comfort him and make sure he was okay; the kiss they'd had in the midst of the war had definitely been genuine, and she did have feelings for him. On the other hand, three words kept running through her head in a vicious cycle: he left you.

 _He left you. He left you. He left you. He left you. He left you. HeleftyouHeleftyouHeleftyouHeleftyou._

"Hey, Ron." Hermione said after taking a deep breath.

"Sit with me?" The fragile quality of his voice tugged at her chest and she found she couldn't say no. She walked over and sat beside him on the bed, the wooden supports creaking a bit as it accepted her weight.

"What's going on in your head right now?" Hermione asked, trying to distract herself from her own morose thoughts. Ron sighed loudly and when she glanced over at him, he was staring down at the middle of the floor.

"It feels like the floor is going to crack apart and I'm going to fall in and just fall, fall, fall. Like that girl in that muggle children's book you told me about? She fell in a - what's it called - a rabbit hole? That right?"

"Yes. Alice in Wonderland is the name of the book."

"Yes I remember now. Yeah, that's how I feel. Down the rabbit hole. I feel nothing and everything all at once. And George… Merlin, George. What's he going to do without Fred? We're supposed to be celebrating the end of the war; we're supposed to be happy. How can we do that, huh Hermione? How?" Ron gulped in a deep breath and Hermione sniffed as her own eyes burned.

"I grieve for him too, Ron. I don't know how to be happy in the wake of all this either."

"Mum just went into the kitchen and sat down. It was so strange."

"Ginny and Harry are cooking right now. Molly lost something too, we all did. She needs to find her own way to process what happened, just like the rest of us do." Hermione tired to hold back a yawn as she spoke but it burst through, warping her words. Ron glanced at her.

"Stay with me?" His request was quiet.

"Ron, I-"

"I don't mean like that. Just sleep, that's all. Knowing you're beside me helps."

"Okay. Just let me brush my teeth." Hermione went to the loo and didn't look in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She looked down at her arm with that awful word carved into it, and she shivered even though the house was quite warm. She got the clothes she slept in out of her purse and changed; just a large baggy shirt and shorts. She put her hair in a low bun and deemed herself ready for sleep. She walked back into Ron's room and see he was ready for bed as well. She slipped under the covers beside him and he draped an arm over her waist.

"This okay?" He murmured. Hermione nodded.

"Night, Ron." There was a clicking noise, and the lights in the room went out: he'd used the Deluminator.

"Night, Hermione."

* * *

 _"_ _Where is the sword, you filthy little mudblood?"_

 _"_ _I don't know! We don't have it!"_

 _"_ _Where is the sword?"_

 _"_ _I don't know!"_

 _"_ _Where. Is. The. Sword!" Bellatrix leaned over Hermione so closely that they could have kissed; her breath fanned over Hermione's face as she started carving into her left arm. Hermione screamed, the sound cutting through the Manor. She turned her head away from the breaths fanning over her face-_

 _Ron. Ron was standing there. Bag slung over his back, dark circles under his eyes. He was looking at her expectantly._

 _"_ _Well? You coming?" Hermione couldn't respond; pain clogged her throat and made any kind of sound other than screaming difficult._

 _"_ _You're going to stay? I can't believe you!" Her glared at her and turned to walk away. Hermione cried out, but not from the pain. Ron was walking away from her, again._

 _"_ _It's time for you to die, mudblood." Bellatrix raised the blade she'd been using high above her head, bringing it down quickly-_

* * *

Hermione shot up in bed, a hand to her mouth to further stifle the scream that was bubbling up. She caught her breath and looked over at Ron; he'd turned away from her in his sleep, and was snoring soundly. Knowing he wasn't waking up any time soon, she got out of bed and went downstairs, intent on having a cup of tea and any leftovers she could scrounge up. When she walked into the kitchen, she saw someone else had the same idea.

"Couldn't sleep, Harry?" Harry, who'd been looking into his cup of tea, jumped and sloshed some onto his hand. He cursed and grabbed a towel to mop up.

"Don't sneak up like that, Hermione. Nearly gave me a heart attack." Harry stood and got a cup, filling it with the still hot water from the kettle; clearly he hadn't been long out of bed.

"Sorry. Oh, thank you." Hermione sat down beside him and took the mug he slid across the wooden table. She took her time letting the tea steep, and there was a companionable silence between the two of them.

"Want to talk about it?" Harry muttered. He took a sip of his tea to give Hermione time to respond. Eventually, Hermione shook her head.

"No. Not right now. It's all too… fresh." What was that clattering noise? She looked down and realised that her mug was shaking, but not because the table was moving. Her hands cupped the mug and it was her hands that were shaking. Harry placed a hand on her wrist, stilling their movement.

"You know I'm here, right? If you ever need anything."

"Same goes for you, too. You want to talk about why you're still up at-" Hermione checked her watch. "Four in the morning?" Hands finally still, she brought the mug up to her lips and let him think about whether he was going to respond.

"I feel…restless. Like I should be doing something, you know? I don't mean that I wish another war were happening, but… this sitting around, not running from one emergency to another… not being in school – Hermione, we missed a year of school."

"I am pretty aware of that, Harry. It was necessary though."

"I just don't know how to adjust to this new way of being, you know? My mind runs a mile a minute, that's why I can't sleep."

"I feel that way too. Life seems to have calmed down, but we don't know how to calm ourselves down – it's like the world is on a different frequency, or something."

"Exactly."

"We'll just have to go day by day and figure things out. It'll take some getting used to." Hermione's stomach rumbled and she slapped a hand across her torso. Harry chuckled.

"I have some food under a stasis charm. Let me get it. It's not as good as Molly's, but Ginny's a good cook, too." Harry went to the counter and waved his wand over a plate. He placed the plate in front of Hermione, who eyed the Sheppard's Pie hungrily. She started eating.

"She is, this is really good."

"You mentioned trying to find your parents." Harry stated.

"Yes. After… after the funeral, I want to talk to the Ministry to see what I can do. It will probably take a while since the Ministry is still rebuilding. I'll probably be pretty low on their priority list, but I want to get the ball rolling."

"You'll need someone to go with you, when you go to Australia. You shouldn't go by yourself." Harry traced a divot in the old wood of the kitchen table.

"Are you offering?"

"Yeah, I am. I can help smooth things over with the Ministry, and we can watch each other's backs. Also, that restlessness? Helping you will help with that. I want to see you reunited with your parents." Hermione smiled so much her cheekbones hurt. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it once before going back to her food.

"That's sweet of you. I just might take you up on that." Harry fidgeted for a moment before looking at her intensely.

"I'm going to try and go to sleep. Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Everything okay with Ron? I was walking Ginny to her room and saw you and… you know."

"Nothing happened. He's just feeling out of sorts, just like the rest of us. He wanted that closeness, I guess. Said he'd sleep better, if I was there. Couldn't say no." Harry nodded, as if expecting the answer.

"Ginny felt the same way. Wanted me to stay with her. Then I couldn't sleep and came down here. But like you said, it's four in the morning. We should both be heading to bed. Don't stay up too late, yeah? Night." Harry filled his mug with water and left it in the sink, before heading upstairs.

"Night." When he left the room, Hermione stood and brought her mug with her to the sink, where she looked out the window and watched the sky start to lighten with the coming of the sun and a new day.

 **A/N: Wow, I didn't expect so many people to favourite/follow so quickly! I guess HarMony is a really popular pairing! Thanks everybody!**

 **Replies to Reviews**

 **Msmalloryreads:** Thank you!

 **Emeroni:** How could I not dedicate it to you? As soon as you told me your OTP and talked about me potentially writing something, there was an idea in my head. You inspired me, haha! Hope it lives up to your expectations, lovely. I've never written HarMony before so this'll be a new experience for me :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione sat at the kitchen table at The Burrow. Strewn across the wooden surface were stacks of parchment and bundles of quills. A long list also dominated the space.

George still hadn't left his room.

"Okay, so since I have the neatest handwriting, I'll handle the invitations. Ron, since you've met or know about everyone on that list, I want you to read out the names I'm going to be writing down and how I should address the letter, Mrs., Ms., Mr., Sir… okay?" Ron nodded and dragged the list toward him so that he could look at it. He immediately started writing on it and muttering to himself. When he didn't explain right away what he was going, Hermione just shrugged and took a sip of her tea.

"What do we do?" Harry asked, motioning to himself and Ginny. Hermione pointed her wand at the list that Ron was currently poring over, still muttering to himself.

"When Ron's done with that list, you two are going to address the envelopes, and make sure the correct invites go into them. We don't have nearly enough owls for this so I can make the letters impervious to the flames and send them through the floo. Everyone good to go?"

"Almost done here. Some of these people need to be fire-called instead of sent a letter. Mum and Dad can do those." Ron muttered.

"Ron, I'm sure that we-" Ron was already shaking his head at Hermione's words.

"It'll be expected, for them to call. If something like this – Merlin forbid – happened to your family wouldn't you use your fellytone to talk to certain people instead of writing a letter?" There was a pause as Hermione thought about what he'd said, then she nodded.

"Telephone. And yes, I suppose that makes sense. Thank you for explaining. Are you done with the list?" Ron pushed it over to her in answer and she tapped the parchment to duplicate it. She handed the parchment to Harry and Ginny to work off of. They all got started and found a rhythm that became automatic. Ron's voice droned on as he read names, the scratching of Hermione's quill as she wrote, Harry attempting to make Ginny laugh as they transfigured parchment into appropriate sizes envelopes. They were making quick and steady work of the invites when Ginny halted their progress.

"What about Katie? And Lee? They're not on this list. Angelina isn't, either."

"We'll have to talk to Mum and Dad." Ron groaned at the prospect of saddling his parents with yet another task. Ginny shook her head, resolute.

"They're dealing with enough. We know that Katie, Lee, and Angelina would want to be there and say their goodbyes to Fred – to be there for George, too. Just add them to the list, Ron."

"Fair enough. It'll be good for George too, I think." Ron muttered.

"He still hasn't left his room, has he?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Nope." Hermione heaved a sigh and went back to writing invitations.

"I think he takes his showers at odd times when he knows he won't run into any of us. I've heard the shower running at three in the morning sometimes." Ginny murmured. Harry suddenly stood, looking toward the stairs.

"I'm going to go talk to him." Harry announced.

"Isn't it too soon? I mean, Harry, I know we've all lost people, but-"

"When Sirius died? I felt like a huge part of me had been ripped out. One of the things that helped was being around other people. Maybe we've approached this all wrong by letting him stay up there. It might be good for him to chat with someone. I'll be back." Harry was already walking away and ascended the stairs to the third floor, to where the twins' rooms were. Fred's door was draped with a black cloth. Harry knocked on the door opposite. There was no response.

"George? It's Harry, can I come in?" Harry knocked again and there was still no answer. A flash of fear flew through him at the prospect of what he might find on the other side of the door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned, surprised to feel no resistance. He pushed the door open.

Only to step inside and hastily close it behind him.

It was a mess. A complete and utter mess. Detritus from various experiments for the joke shop littered the large desk in the corner, just as clothing swamped the floor like carpet, hiding the hardwood. A few empty bottles of Firewhiskey rested on the bedside table. The feeble light that filtered in through the curtains was all Harry had to see by, as all the lamps were off. Harry's chest felt suddenly very tight with fear. Sadness. Pity. Regret. It all made breathing quite difficult for a moment, but once he got himself under control Harry walked over to George's bedside, kicking aside clothing as he got closer to the man huddled under the covers like a child scared of what was under the bed.

"George?" Harry knelt and rested a hand on George's shoulder. He nearly recoiled because, as gangly as the twins were, George was nearly cadaverous, the bone to his shoulder jutting out.

"Harry?" A hoarse voice issued from underneath the bedsheets.

"Hey, mate." Harry squeezed George's too thin shoulder and the man sighed, as if he'd needed the human contact.

"Why're you here?"

"Checking in on you, you dolt. We've left you on your own long enough." There was a long silence from George, as if he were trying to find the words.

"I don't want to go downstairs." George settled on saying. Harry sighed.

"You know, I didn't tell very many people this. But when Sirius died, I felt like I'd been ripped apart. Like there was this… place inside where Sirius and I were connected, but it died when he did. He'd even been given a second chance at life, and he still died. I found it all so unfair. Everyone was around, even though I wanted to rage at them because they lived and he hadn't. Knowing they were around, that they were there for me, that I wasn't alone, it helped – not that I realised it at the time. I was far too angry to appreciate it." Harry sat on the floor, his knees no longer happy with bearing the brunt of his weight for so long. George cleared his throat and slowly rolled over onto his other side, as if he were stiff. He faced Harry, his gaunt face and bleak eyes at odds with Harry's earnest and understanding expression.

"It's hard." George mumbled. He scrunched his eyes shut immediately, as if the confession had been too much. Harry barked out a laugh and George's eyes flew open at the sudden harsh and unhappy sound.

"Of course it's hard, mate. It's not something that just magically gets better. Two years later, I still think things like 'oh, Sirius would laugh so much at that', or 'I wonder what he would think about this?', or I wish that he were still around to give me advice on one thing, or help me out with another. This is two years later, and I didn't even know he existed until I was thirteen. Fred's your brother. You've spent your whole lives together. I can only imagine how you're feeling." Harry found himself clearing his own throat as it clogged with memories.

"It's like my arm is gone." George blurted. Harry's watery gaze swung around to meet George's.

"What do you mean?"

"Like there's something important, or vital missing. We use our arms for a lot, right? It's like suddenly one of them is gone. I don't know how to get used to it being gone. At all."

"This is part of it all. I'm still hurting now, George. I have days where I just want to be alone. But then Hermione will come sit beside me a read a book, or Ron will try to teach me Wizard's Chess for the millionth time, or Ginny will ask me to walk outside with her, or your mum will give me a hug, or your dad will ask me every question he can think of about some muggle thing… and you know what?" Harry asked, swiping at his eyes quickly. George used his bedsheet to dry his own before responding.

"What?"

"It hurts less. Definitely less than it did at the beginning. I'm reminded that I still have people around me. It stops me from wallowing or getting too into my head, which is the worst place to be for me. If I'm too in my head, I'm either drowning my sorrows or throwing things around." Harry took a breath, a shaky one, to settle his nerves. George sighed.

"I just feel numb now. Except for here. So sore, right here." George clutched the blankets to his chest and closed his eyes, not wanting to see Harry's expression.

"Look, mate, there's no pressure or anything. We just want you to know that we're here for you. Okay?" George nodded.

"Thanks, Harry."

"Uh, we've also… we've started sending out invitations? Do you want us to send owls to Katie, Lee, and Angelina?"

"It'll be nice to have them there. I think Fred would be sad if they weren't there to, you know, send him off."

"Okay. We'll send them now, then. I'll go downstairs and set that up. If you need anything-"

"I'll let you know."

"It's not just me, either. You can talk to any of us."

"Harry?" Harry paused, hand on the doorknob.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For, you know. Getting it."

"Of course. What's family for?" Harry gave him a smile and walked out onto the landing. He gave himself a minute after he closed the door to calm down before heading back into the kitchen. As he made it to the second landing, however, a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him into a room.

"Oi-"

"How is he?" Ginny's anxious face stopped any further complaints from Harry. He took Ginny's fidgeting hands and led her to sit with him on her bed.

"He's hurting. Doesn't really want to be around anyone right now. But it's understandable. He'll be okay, even if it is tough for a while."

"I just… I wish I could help him." Ginny swiped angrily at her eyes. Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder and rested his head atop hers.

"You are helping. Just by being there, you're helping, Gin." She moved her head to look up at him and they both realised at once how close they were to one another. Harry's hand slid from around her shoulders to rest on the back of her neck as their lips met. Ginny's hands sunk into Harry's unruly hair and they both moaned. Harry's hands slipped underneath the oversized Gryffindor Quidditch jersey that she tended to wear around the house to touch the smooth skin of her hips, her ribs. He swallowed the gasp she made the instant his hands touched her skin, and she jerked away, breathing heavily.

"What?" Harry gasped, breathing with just as much difficulty.

"I… I can't right now, okay. I just – we're burying my brother. It seems wrong."

"It's not bad to have good things happen when you're sad." Harry murmured as he reached out to grasp her hand. He sighed when she drew her hand back and stood up.

"We should go back downstairs." Ginny muttered as she smoothed down her shirt. Harry sighed once more and stood up.

"Alright." Harry led the way back downstairs and saw Ron and Hermione quickly put some distance between each other. As Harry glanced between the two, he could see the sadness in Ron's face, and the storms in Hermione's. She was angry about something and trying to hide it. Her face smoothed over as she looked at Ginny and Harry.

"How's George?" Harry shrugged.

"About like you'd expect. He says that Lee, Katie, and Angelina should be there, so let's get those invites sent out."

"What was that, Harry dear?" Harry and Ginny spun around to see Molly behind them.

"We-" Harry began, but Ron stood up and spoke over him.

"I noticed that Katie, Lee, and Angelina weren't on the list of invitees. They were Fred's friends. George's too. We should have them there."

"And you didn't think to discuss this…?" Ginny shook her head.

"We knew that you and Dad were dealing with a lot. We wanted to help by making at least once decision for you-" Molly sliced her hand through the air, silencing Ginny. She stopped midsentence, shock in her eyes.

"How dare you not tell us what you were doing? And you, you haven't shed a tear for your older brother! Not a single one! I can't believe you." Tears tracked down Molly's face as she looked at her only daughter, who was rooted to the ground and trembling.

"I was possessed! And your solution to me being emotional over it? 'Take a Sleeping Draught, dear, you'll be fine'! I was eleven! That was more a clue than anything else that I needed to suck it up. That I was just one of the boys." Molly gaped at her daughter for a moment.

"Mum!" Ron looked at Molly with shock. Molly dragged a hand through her hair.

"Ginevra, you were so hysterical after you were possessed, you were making yourself sick! You had nightmares! We didn't know what else to do – we didn't want you stuck at St. Mungo's for days!"

"Well it would've been nice to have been told, not just told to drink and it'll be all better. I-I need to – excuse me." Ginny grabbed her wand off the kitchen table and left the house, slamming the door behind her. Hermione moved to go after her, but Ron, rested a hand on her own, stilling her.

"I'll go talk to her." Ron used his taller form to catch up with his younger sister. Arthur came into the room, bewildered.

"What's going on?" Molly swiped her eyes and moved back toward the living room. Arthur looked at Harry and Hermione, who both avoided his gaze.

"Ginny and Mrs. Weasley got into a fight." Hermione murmured.

"Ron's gone after Ginny." Arthur turned to look at the hallway that Molly had gone down.

"Molly!" He called, moving quickly down the hallway, leaving Harry and Hermione alone. Harry sat down beside her with a puff of air expanding his cheeks. He looked over at her and saw her folding a piece of parchment over and over. He placed his hand over hers, stilling her movements.

"Did you know that? About the potions?" Hermione whispered. Harry shook his head.

"No, I didn't."

"I wish I could help them." Hermione sighed and rested her head on Harry's shoulder. Harry gripped one of her hands.

"Me too."

 **A/N: Hey all! New chapter, finally! Hope you enjoyed.**

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	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

No sooner than they had left Hogwarts, they all returned. Dressed in black, they trouped down the lane from the train in staggered groups.

"I can't believe we're back here again," Ron mused, looking around at the trees that accompanied their walk.

"Andromeda said it was what Remus wanted. To be laid to rest-sorry, to have his ashes spread at the Great Lake. Since Andromeda didn't know whether Tonks had any wishes, she decided to do the same with her so they were together," Harry informed Ron and Hermione. Harry pulled Hermione out of the way of a protruding root; she was clearly not paying attention.

"Thanks," Hermione murmured, her face locked in grim lines.

"Sure thing. You alright? I mean, apart from, you know." Harry gestured at the somber progression to the castle.

"I'm alright. Just thinking," Hermione's tone clearly suggested that she didn't want to talk about it any further.

"Okay." Harry left it alone and they walked the rest of the way in silence that was only punctuated by the gurgles and babbles of three month old Teddy. As they approached the gates, they opened, and Headmistress Minerva McGonagall stood just before them, awaiting their arrival. She was also dressed in black, and wore a somber expression.

"Thank you so much, Minerva, for letting us have the funeral service here while repairs are going on," Andromeda said tremulously as she took one of Headmistress McGonagall's hands in both of hers. Minerva's eyes raked over Andromeda's pale and drawn face; she'd seen the signs of grief and exhaustion too many times to miss it when it was right in front of her, and drew the older woman in, baby and all, for an embrace.

"Of course, 'Dromeda. Remus and Dora were ours. We would want to do right by them," Minerva stated resolutely. Minerva beckoned everyone to follow her, and she led the way to the Great Lake. On the way there, Teddy started to fuss and squirm in Andromeda's arms, making it difficult for her to hold him and the burlap bag she carried. Harry rushed forward, seeing Andromeda struggle.

"I can take him, Andromeda," Harry reassured her. Andromeda gave him a warm smile.

"Are you sure? He can be quite the handful," she warned. Harry nodded.

"I'm supposed to be looking after him next weekend, right? This will give me a head start. Hullo, Teddy," Harry murmured to the child, rocking him as he walked. Teddy blinked up at the change in scenery, and loosed a huge yawn before settling against Harry's chest. When they got to the Great Lake, there was already a crowd of Order Members. Kingsley was standing beside Hagrid, and they seemed to be having an animated but subdued conversation about something. Fleur was already there with Bill, and they were looking out at the Great Lake. Aberforth stood apart from everyone else, looking pensively at the ground in front of him, stroking his long beard. Horace Slughorn and Professor Flitwick were walking along the edge of the Great Lake, gesturing in a heated way; they must have been in an academic argument of some sort. Andromeda made her way to where a stand had been placed into the ground, for those who had brought notes and wished to speak. Andromeda took three items out of the burlap bag that had been in her hand: two identical silver urns, and a worn leather bound journal. She set the urns gently onto the grass, and looked at those assembled furtively whilst they all thought she was occupied. She was happy they were talking, and not wallowing like she was trying desperately not to do. She took a deep breath and stood up straight, looking at the small gathering of family and friends. Friends she considered family, at this point. From Kingsley all the way down to Teddy, who was nestled in Harry's arms, sleeping.

"I was going through Remus' things after the Battle, and came across his journals. In his most recent one, the last entry was a letter he wrote in the event of his death, as a sort of living will. Within the pages was also a letter that Dora had written. I am going to read both to you today, starting with Remus' letter," With another deep breath, Andromeda opened the journal to the correct place and set it onto the stand.

"If Andromeda is reading this aloud, then what I feared has in fact, come to pass, and I have died during the Battle of Hogwarts. To my son, I am so sorry that I will not be there for you, and can only hope that Dora survived and is taking good care of you. In the event of both of our deaths, I am sorrier than I can say, but please be assured that Andromeda and Harry will be there to support you and help you thrive.

"To Dora, my love. You stayed with me through all the odds; my lycanthropy, our work with the Order, the constant fear we had that the other would be hurt or worse. My leaving during your pregnancy for fear that our child would have the same lycanthropy and grow up with the stigma that I came to expect on a regular basis. This was, obviously, one of my more idiotic moments, and still you stayed. We had a beautiful child together. I have no regrets about us, Dora, never, and I want you to know that. I know I was never the most talkative person, and I kept things close to my chest, and I know that made things difficult for you as you didn't always know where I stood on things. But I always stood with you, and I am either sorry to leave you behind, or I will meet you soon in whatever adventure awaits us next.

"To Hermione, who shares my heartfelt love for books and the worlds trapped inside them; I leave you my meager book collection with the knowledge that you will use it well. To Harry, I give my ever full chocolate collection, to bring things full circle. Eat it – it will make you feel better. Make sure Teddy never forgets his old man, and the mischief he and his friends got into at school.

"Oscar Wilde once said 'To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all', and I want to say to you all that I have experienced the rarity of living, and I have enjoyed it with all of you. Now you all must do the same in return. Do not just exist; do not mourn, do not wallow. Celebrate, for you are alive. Celebrate, because I would much rather see you all tipsy and laughing than morose and crying. Experience life, because I no longer cannot: that, above all else, will make me happy." Andromeda took a single piece of paper out of the journal and unfolded it. She took a moment to let everyone collect themselves; Andromeda even had wet eyes of her own to pat dry. She cleared her throat and blinked rapidly a few times before starting Tonk's letter.

"If you're reading this, it means I didn't make it. I know my decision to fight in the battle instead of staying behind with Teddy was a decision that rattled the owl cage, so to speak. But let me explain why I did it. Hopefully that will help you understand why I have no regrets, even as you lay my body to rest.

"I decided to fight because I am a daughter, and a mother, and a wife. You might think those reasons might all the more reason to stay behind than go out and fight, and that's okay if you think so. But for me, that's everything. Fighting for what I believed in, whether I lived or died, would be to secure the life for my son that I never had; it would be to ensure that my husband came back home – Remus, if you died too, I am going to kill you – and it would be so that my mom no longer had to look in the paper and see the Dark Mark, or face funeral after funeral, or treat wound after wound. It would be so that my mother could see her sister again without fear of rejection or disdain, as I know she's been wanting to see Narcissa for the longest time. It's so that families don't get torn apart like that in the first place. Those are the reasons why I joined the Order, too. Those reasons never changed, only intensified once I became a mother. My child, our child, would never face what we faced. I would make sure of that, even if it took until my last breath.

"Remus, I love you. I know that we were on shaky ground before Teddy was born, and it never completely smoothed out because there was just so much going on. But in case there were ever any doubts… you are mine, and I am yours. Always and forever. If you survived the battle, don't be afraid of making mistakes with Teddy. Just raise him into the man that we both would have wanted to see – I have complete faith in you.

"Mum, please don't do the thing where you shove your emotions deep and try to do things on your own. I know you'll probably want to – that's how you are – but it's not a weakness to lean on the people we love. Arthur and Molly have been there for us. Harry is Teddy's godfather. Don't shove them away. If, Merlin forbid, both-" Andromeda's eyes squeezed shut and her shoulders shook with the sobs that she had kept in since the Battle. Her keening noises cut through the silence surrounding the lake. Teddy echoed his grandmother in unhappy wails. Kingsley, who was closest, stepped up beside Andromeda, and placed an arm around her shoulder. He whispered into her ear, and she nodded before turning her face away and into Kingsley's side. Kingsley's voice boomed across the gathering as he picked up where Andromeda left off.

"If, Merlin forbid, both Remus and I don't make it, I want you to make a promise to me. Don't wallow. Don't try to raise Teddy by yourself – I know you can do it, but it's not about pride. Teddy has a family. He's got you, Harry, the Weasleys, Hermione, everyone in the Order. Promise me that when you need a moment for yourself, whether it's because you're sad and just need a minute, or Teddy is in his hellion stage and is driving you up the wall, that you'll call Harry, or Molly, or someone so that you can take that time. Promise me, because if both Remus and I are dead, that means that it's just you and Teddy, and I am so, so sorry to leave you both like this. But you're only alone if you think you are, and you will both have fuller lives, and actually live, if you rely on the people that are gathered with you today. I love you, Mum. Today might be sad, but try to find one happy thing in every day, and cling to it tight. I am going to pull a Remus and end things here with a quote from Marcel Proust. He said 'Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom' and I cannot agree more. All of you made my life full, and while I am sorry to leave, I leave knowing that I lived because of all of you." Kingsley folded the paper and stuck it back into the journal. Andromeda turned red eyes to Harry, who was still trying to soothe Teddy, and got his attention. Harry came forward.

"You're going to help me spread the ashes," Andromeda said resolutely, her hand quivering as it stroked Teddy's cheek. Teddy snuffled, then gave his grandmother a toothless smile.

"Uh, are you sure-?"

"Very. Remus named you godfather, and obviously Dora agreed. You're part of the family, so you're going to help me with this. Just use your wand and float the ashes into the lake," Andromeda opened both of the urns on the ground and raised her wand over Tonks' remains. The ashes flowed from the urn to hover over the lake. Harry did the same with Remus' moments later, and the two swirls mingled before floating down onto the water. A tentacle slithered out of the depths of the Great Lake and lazily swept along the surface of the water before disappearing. Harry put his wand away and wrapped his arm around Andromeda's shoulders. Molly and Arthur stepped up behind them.

"Come on, then. Let's go back to The Burrow and have a cuppa, 'Dromeda." Molly wrapped her arms around Andromeda, extricating her from Harry's comforting grip, and steered her back towards the castle gates. Hermione stepped up to join him and rested her head on his shoulder, blowing Teddy a kiss.

"I can't believe Remus left me his books," Hermione murmured quietly. Harry scoffed.

"Who else loves books as much as you do? Of course he would give them to you."

"I can't believe they're really gone," Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"Me either. I don't know whether to be angry that they've left their son or sad that they're gone, or both, or what. I don't know how to feel," the words grated from Harry's constricted throat, as tears streamed down his face.

"Be happy, because it's what they would have wanted." Hermione said before she too, started to make her way back toward the castle gates. Harry took a few deep breaths and looked down at the sleepy child.

"Ready to go, mate? Yeah, I think so too." Harry slowly started to follow in everyone else's path. He tightened his grip on Teddy as he went; whether it was to comfort Teddy or himself, he didn't know.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

A sizable group dressed in black stood on the beach, near the crude marker that showed where Dobby had been buried. An ebony casket floated in the water just beyond the sands, ricking gently in place in time with the small waves. One by one, the sharp sounds of people arriving by apparition punctuated the silence that hung over the group. Harry and Hermione leaned against a nearby tree as they watched members of the Weasley family greet newcomers.

"How does it feel to be back here?" Harry asked Hermione. She shook her head.

"I should be asking you that, Harry," she nudged him in the side. They both wore white armbands on their black robes, like everybody else that arrived.

"It's… okay, actually. It's sad, but I was also so relieved at the time. You were safe and on the mend, Ron was safe… Dobby risked his life to help us. That they kept him here means a lot. I didn't even ask to do it, I just did it," Harry murmured, scuffing his foot along the sparse grass that ran in tufts through the sand. Hermione nodded.

"Yes, I think we were all just acting, and not thinking about it all. At first, anyway," Hermione glanced toward the casket. Harry nodded. Fleur appeared a few feet away from them, making them jump.

"'Ello 'Arry, 'Ermione," Fleur walked over to them, sister in tow. Both girls greeted them by brushing their lips across both of their cheeks. Hermione hugged them both.

"I am so glad you were able to make it," Hermione gave them both a brief smile, which was returned by both girls.

"Yes, my muzzer wanted me to come 'ome to France right after ze battle. I did not vant to, I did not vant to leave Bill, but – she's my muzzer," Fleur shrugged, searching over their heads to the mass of people gathered near the shoreline. She waved, and Bill broke from the group to walk over to her. They embraced tightly.

"Je vous ai manqué," Bill murmured into her ear. Fleur gave him a smile.

"Moi aussi mon amour," she murmured back. She looked at Harry and Hermione, still in the comfort of Bill's arms.

"Vill you be joining us after ze ceremony? Ve vill be 'aving drinks at the cottage, a kind of vake for Fred," Fleur asked. Harry and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, we will," she said.

"We wouldn't miss it," he shook Bill's hand when he reached it out to Harry as a greeting. Bill released his wife, who he seemed to be drawing comfort from, went over to Hermione and hugged her tightly.

"Merci-er, thank you for everything you've done for us. My family – you too, Harry, you've both been lifelines for them," Bill said, his voice thick with emotion. Harry clapped Bill on the back.

"Of course, mate. You're all family to us," Harry watched as Hermione rubbed Bill's back.

"Harry's right. Your mum treated us like one of her own. Still does. We hate seeing you all so sad," Hermione swiped underneath her own eyes as Bill released her and reached for Fleur once more. As one, they all started walking to the beach. Everyone seemed to have arrived. Kingsley, the current Minister, was standing on a raised platform before the group. When the last stragglers had joined, Kingsley raised his wand to his throat to amplify his voice.

"Today, we are all gathered to send off a wonderful young man, who departed this world far too early as a victim of war, a young man who was strong and vital. He dedicated himself to making the world I which he lived a safer, happier place to be. He continued to smile, even though situations were grim," Shacklebolt had to take a pause to clear his throat. Ginny had made her way to the back and grabbed both Harry's and Hermione's hands.

"Come to the front, you're going to help us send him off," She whispered urgently. Hermione looked alarmed.

"We're not-" Bill, overhearing, spoke over Hermione's protests.

"You're family. Join us," Bill started to make his way through the crowd, Fleur in tow. Ginny followed them, pulling Harry and Hermione behind her. When they made it to the front, they were each given a Wildfire Whiz-bang.

George was the one that handed them out, his face stony from trying to hold it all in. When he gave Hermione her Whiz-bang, she flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly. George gave a huge sigh and buried his face in the side of her neck, shuddering. When they parted, George's eyes were red, his cheeks were wet, but he gave her a small smile before moving on to the next person. Ron sidled up next to Hermione and she linked an arm through his, as he seemed to need it. Shacklebolt continued.

"Fred fought; he fought for a better life for the rest of the world; he fought for peace; he fought for happiness. This was all clear in everything he did. When he and his brother defied Dolores Umbridge no matter the cost, as they could not stand the injustice they were being subjected to. When they opened Weasley's Wizard Wheezes together, and is now one of the most successfully businesses in England. When he helped with Potterwatch, to help others keep safe, putting their needs before his own. Fred has left behind a legacy that we can all only hope to live up to. It was decided to do the send-off a bit differently; the Weasley Wildfire Whiz-bangs were Fred's idea, George tells me, and so his family will ignite them and send them in the direction of the casket, which will become a pyre and burn in his memory," Kingsley waved his wand in the direction of the ebony casket, and shards of wood emerged from the casket itself, forming kindling of a kind.

"STUPEFY!" Everyone that held a firework shouted after the conical objects were thrown in the direction of the casket. There was a large explosion and a wolf, a rat, a dog, and a stag burst forth over the bobbing casket, and the pieces that jutted out started to catch fire. A hyena and a coyote gamboled over the water before landing onto the lacquered wood. A dragon exploded next, along with silvery lights. Then there were a few centaurs, and the fire was so bright now that it was hard to distinguish other shapes. George's shoulders were shaking uncontrollably, and though it was hard to hear over the explosions, you knew he was sobbing as he slid to his knees and stared out at the flames, the water lapping at his legs. Molly knelt down beside him and clutched him to her. Arthur joined on the other side. Ginny tucked herself in against Harry and Hermione reached for Ron's hand. The rest of the brother ranged out around them. The fire took a long time to go out.

Soon enough, people started leaving, though Hermione barely noticed as she watched the flames. After a time, it was just the family and close friends. The fire finally stopped crackling, and only the remains of the platform were visible, far out in the deep of the water.

"Come on, son. Let's go inside, you'll catch a chill," Arthur pulled George to his feet, and he gave no opinion about being moved. Molly helped her husband steer George inside. That seemed to be the cue for everyone else as well; as one they turned to walk into Shell Cottage. Once inside, Fleur prepared tea and stronger drinks for those that stayed. Bill cleared his throat, though he didn't have to; the room was quite subdued.

"Fleur had the idea to toast to Fred, in the hopes that it would lift spirits. To Fred, who in the day to day at the Burrow contributed to its chaos and made us all laugh," Bill raised his glass and took a drink. Everyone, except George, who was mounting the stairs to his room, followed.

"To Fred!" Everyone shouted, drinking from their glasses or mugs. Ron stood next to speak.

"Fred turned my teddy bear into a spider when I was three, because I broke his toy broomstick. At the time, I was scared and upset over it – you know my fear of spiders – anyway, it kept things lively, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one he played tricks on in the house. To Fred, for finding his penchant for jokes early!"

"To Fred!" Everyone cried, taking a drink. Ginny went up next.

"To Fred, who taught me in my third year that anything is possible when you have the nerve," Ginny raised her glass.

"To Fred!" Everyone cried. Stories started going around at this point, accompanied by laughs and salutes. Hermione wound her way through the crowd to find Kingsley in the back of the room, nursing a glass of Ogden's Finest.

"Minister," Hermione twisted her hands, having divested herself of her drink only moments ago to come over to him. He glanced over at her.

"Hermione, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" His deep voice rumbled toward her.

"I know this might not be the time, but I'm weary now about sending letters to the Ministry," Hermione started. Kingsley chuckled.

"I can imagine. What can I do for you?" Kingsley moved into the empty living room, and Hermione followed. They both sat down on the couch.

"Well, right before I left with Harry and Ron to find the Horcruxes, you know that I obliviated my parents," Hermione began. Kingsley nodded.

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, I want to go find them. But I assume I'll probably need the Australian Ministry's permission to do it, right?"

"You assume correctly. Hermione, I will do my best to provide them with all the information we have on your parents and the identities that they were given so that they can get a head start on finding them. But I want you to know now, it's going to take some time for us all to get organised. Our Ministry is still rebuilding, and I still have to weed out people in our Ministry who were sympathisers to Voldemort. That's also going to take time. I don't want the wrong people to have the information that you so bravely and selflessly kept out of Death Eater hands. I will keep you posted, that's the best I can do," Shacklebolt said. Hermione nodded.

"I understand. Just, thank you, for saying you would try," Hermione gave him a small smile that he returned.

"Of course, my dear. Now, let's head back to the festivities, shall we? It seems we are missing out on all the rowdiness," Shacklebolt stood and started to move back into the kitchen. Hermione followed.

"Yes, let's," Hermione could hear Harry laughing with Ron and Bill, and the sadness was – at least temporarily – replaced with a warm feeling in her chest that made her smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were identical pictures as they all sat at the kitchen table, reading their ministry sealed letters. Molly and Arthur tended to take their meals in their room now, so only Ginny kept them company; the frown on her face suggested that she wouldn't be good company this morning.

 _Dear Esteemed Witch or Wizard,  
_

 _The Auror Office, partnered with Magical Law Enforcement, would like to present you with an opportunity: rounding up those left that have become a danger to us since Voldemort's rise to power.  
_ _You fought bravely during the Battle of Hogwarts, and we at the Ministry would like to extend our thanks to you on behalf of the Wizarding World of Britain. However, the fight against Death Eaters and Voldemort sympathisers is not over and we would very much appreciate your assistance in this important task as your experience is invaluable.  
_ _Should you accept, there will be a mandatory month long specialised training period, just so you are aware of Ministry protocols and are able to hone your real world experience.  
_ _Please let me know within the next few days whether you will be joining us.  
_

 _Sincerely,  
_ _Kingsley Shacklebolt,  
_ _Minister for Magic_

Ginny was alternating between glaring at them and at her tea. Immediately after reading, Hermione summoned a quill, ink, and parchment so she could reply to what had been sent to her.

"Made your decision already?" Ron asked, surprised. Hermione nodded absently as she quilled her reply.

"Ginny, can I borrow Pig?" Hermione glanced up, and Ginny realised that Hermione looked troubled by what had been addressed to her.

"Of course. _PIG_!" Ginny shouted, and the Pygmy owl zipped in from his tree outside. Hermione tightly folded the letter and attached it. Pig playfully nipped at Hermione's fingers before speeding away.

"Thanks, Gin." Hermione sat back, calmer now that she'd sent her reply. Ginny looked around at the group. Harry looked to be in deep thought, and Ron looked excited and eager. With Hermione looking so conflicted just moments ago, what had they really been written to get such different reactions?

"Someone care to tell me what that was all about?"

"Kingsley owled to ask us, people who fought in the Battle of Hogwarts and are now of age, to join the Aurors and round up the remaining Death Eaters and Voldemort sympathisers," Harry explained.

"Why wasn't I sent a letter? I helped," Ginny muttered. Ron shrugged.

"I think it might be because he would have had to ask Mum about it, since you're still underage. You know Mum would say no, Gin," Ron sighed, and Ginny slumped in her chair in defeat.

"Yeah, you're right, she would have said no. Hermione, what did you decide?" Ginny asked. Hermione looked between Harry and Ron, chewing on her lower lip in worry.

"I told him no."

"What?"

"But Hermione-" Hermione raised a hand, stopping their impending protests.

"Look, I know we spent all that time on the run, and, all things considered, it was a success-" Ron was already shaking his head.

"A success? Hermione, you were _tortured_ -"

"I said all things considered. Our task was to destroy the Horcruxes and end Voldemort. We did that. So, successful. I knew the spells that could help us, and yes, I was prepared for most eventualities. But I can't do that again. The fighting, the risking we did. Being an Auror would drive me mental. I'm comfortable behind the scenes, helping to use the law to make sure these people go away, and I told Kingsley as much. And we worked well together, we always have. But I can't do all that again," Hermione rested her hand on her other forearm, where that hateful word had been carved into her skin.

"Hermione, you're great with a wand," Ron insisted. Hermione ruefully shook her head.

"I'm great with books, Ron. It made me lucky with a wand. Books, and rules, those are what I know inside out. The minds of fanatics and murders? Not so much, and I'd rather not have that kind of insight if that's all the same to you. I'd rather work with the law to make sure something like this can never happen again, not throw myself headlong into danger."

"I-we get it, Hermione," Harry smiled, but Hermione could see Ron's face contort into pain for a moment, and Hermione knew that Harry had kicked him under the table to shut him up.

"What're you two going to do?" Ginny asked.

"Well, I want to do it," Harry answered. Ginny snorted.

"No surprise there, Boy Who Lived," Ginny teased. Harry sighed and took a sip of his tea.

"Ron?" Hermione asked. Ron fiddled with his napkin before he responded.

"It feels right, to finish up what we started." Ron said. Hermione sighed, looking between her first friends she ever made. People she considered her family.

"Okay, okay. I want to ask you one thing. Since you both seem to be really set on doing this, can you just take the few days to really, really think about it before you decide?" Hermione pleaded with them. Harry, perhaps sensing Hermione's growing anxiety, nodded immediately.

"Yeah, sure, Hermione."

"You decided right away, Hermione," Ron pointed out. Hermione sighed explosively.

"Yes, Ronald. Because I was declining the "opportunity" to sign up risking my life on a daily basis, again!" Hermione's stress level got the better of her and she slammed her hand on the table as her voice raised, for emphasis. Right beside her, Ginny flinched. She tentatively reached out and grasped her shoulder. Hermione only tolerated the touch for a few moments before shrugging her off.

"Hermione…?" Ron spoke with uncertainty, unsure how to react to her outburst.

"Look, I just want you two to be safe. All of us to be safe. That's all. Haven't we had enough violence and death for a lifetime? Several lifetimes? You know what, never mind. Never mind that being an Auror is different than being a child and completing tasks _approved_ by our recently dead headmaster. There will be paperwork, protocol, and people to report to. We never were good on the authority thing. So just look at it from all angles before you say yes, okay?" Hermione got out of her chair and walked outside before anyone could say another word. There was a silence at the table for a moment as what had just happened sun in. Ron stood.

"I'm going to go talk to her."

"I think it's a better idea if I do, Ron. I'm not one of the ones going back out into the world and risking my life," Ginny followed Hermione's path out the door, walked a few paces towards the field where they used to play the Quidditch matches, but stopped when she couldn't see Hermione at all. She frowned in thought for a moment, then she closed her eyes and apparated.

* * *

Hermione sat on the beach by Shell Cottage, throwing rock into the water, not caring if they skipped or not. In fact, causing ripples in the water soothed her nerves. Her bare feet curled into the sand, the grittiness scraping against the soft skin of her feet and giving her something else to think about. When, after a while, she heard footsteps behind her, she all but growled at the intrusion.

"Ron, you'd better turn right around and go. Home. I don't want to speak with you."

"It's a good thing I'm not Ron, then," Ginny quipped, sitting beside Hermione on the beach. She took her shoes off and dug her feet into the sand.

"Did Ron send you?" Hermione asked. Ginny scoffed.

"No. I sent myself. I'm as curious as they are about what just happened back there. I'm concerned, too. That's not like you."

"It's hard to explain, Ginny. I don't know if I can," Hermione looked out into the stormy distance. Companionable silence fell between them for a moment.

"You feel helpless when the people you love jump headlong into danger," Ginny idly commented, making swirling patterns in the sand with a finger. Hermione sighed.

"Yeah, that's part of it."

"What else?"

"We've been attached at the hip for seven years. We've been fighting the bad guys since we were eleven, for Merlin's sake. At least when I was with them, I knew if they were okay or if they needed help. Not knowing this time… it'll be a hard routine to break," Hermione whipped a stone into the distance, grunting with the effort.

"I get that, I think. You're like a mum to them. You don't want to see them get hurt."

"What I _don't_ get is why they would choose this. After everything we've all been through, they would choose to chase after these maniacs and go through all of that all over again," Hermione's hands dove into her hair, creating runnels where her fingers had been.

"It's justice, Hermione. Don't you want a better, safer future, for when you have kids?"

"Yes, but there are better, safer ways of doing it."

"Well, sure. But you know as well as I do that Harry has nearly always wanted to be an Auror. And Ron… well, he's been undecided. But he's not bad with a wand, and he's been given this opportunity. You know, he's got a point, too," Ginny mused. Hermione looked over at Ginny.

"What do you mean?"

"Finishing what you started. He said it felt right. He's got a point. He fought Death Eaters when he was fifteen; we all did, in the Department of Mysteries. It's like it comes full circle if he does it in a more… official capacity now. Look, I know you care about them: I do too. You'll worry about them, hurt when they hurt, and be scared when they come home hours late without telling you. But this is what they want to do, what they see themselves doing. You really want to get in the way of that?" There was a long pause as Hermione considered Ginny's words.

"No. I don't. You're right. You're so right. I can't believe I lost it back there – they must think I'm crazy," Hermione muttered.

"They're concerned, that's all. You're usually the most… put together of all of us. So when you freaked out – rightfully so, I might add – I think it put things into perspective for them. That their decision won't just affect only them, but other people too," Ginny leaned to the side and bumped Hermione's shoulder. Hermione gave a small chuckle.

"Thanks, Gin. I swear, if Ron had come after me, I think I might have hexed him."

"He means well. You know that. He cares about you."

"I know," when Hermione spoke this time, it was barely audible over the wind that had picked up. Ginny nodded and stood, brushing the sand from her bum and the back of her legs.

"I'm going to head back now. Weather's going to shite. Want to join me?"

"I think I'm going to stay here a bit longer. Go on; I'll be okay."

"Okay, sure." Ginny spun on the spot and disappeared just as the rain started to dot the sand.

Hermione's clothes and hair were soaked before she decided to apparate back.

* * *

This time, it was Ron who was having trouble sleeping. He tossed, turned, sighed, turned, and grunted. This went on for some time before Hermione turned over onto her back to look at him.

"Ron? What is it?" Hermione blearily rubbed her eyes as Ron sat up and waved his wand, bringing to room into a soft glow.

"I'm sorry for pushing you earlier, Hermione. I had no idea that was how you felt. I thought you would be happy for us, and even join us. I was so wrong about that. I was just trying to tell you what a brilliant witch I think you are. You're brave, you're strong, you're intelligent and so much more. It's okay that you don't want to be an Auror; if there was something else I wanted to do instead of this I would, but I don't. Like I said, it feels right to finish what we started. I just don't want you to hate Harry and me for wanting to do it. We'll be fine," Ron rested his hand on her arm and squeezed in an attempt to reassure her. Hermione sighed and looked up into his earnest face.

"I know. It's just going to take some time for me to be okay with this, alright? I need some time," Hermione repeated. Ron nodded.

"Of course. I get that. I really do. And Hermione?" Ron prompted, laying back down on the bed. She looked over at him, his face nearly touching hers, his light breaths dancing over her nose.

"Yeah?"

"You know you could do anything you wanted – you have the marks, the smarts… whatever you chose, I'd support you. No matter what." Ron waved his wand and plunged the room into darkness once more. Hermione turned onto her side and Ron automatically draped his arm over her stomach.

"Thanks, Ron. That means a lot."

"Mmhmmm…. Night, 'Mione." Ron was snoring in moments. Usually the sounds would lull her into sleep, but not tonight. Trying not to wake him, she slipped out of bed and went downstairs, intending to have a cup of tea. When she rounded the corner into the kitchen, she jumped upon seeing Harry at the sink, somewhat in shadow, cleaning his mug. She must have made a sound, because Harry spun around. The tension flew out of his shoulders when he realised it was her. He tapped the kettle to get it to warm up again.

"You alright?" He asked, sitting down. She sat down across from him and summoned a mug from the dish rack.

"You were just about to go back to bed," Hermione stated.

"Well, yeah, but I wanted to know how you were after earlier. I've never really seen you like that before. It scared me to see you so scared," Harry admitted, watching himself dig a fingernail into a rivet in the wood of the kitchen table.

"Of course I was scared. I thought you would understand it more so than anyone else. You hated it when we put ourselves in danger with you," Hermione waved her wand, and the kettle floated over and poured itself into Hermione's mug. She dropped a teabag into the mug and banished the kettle over to its spot by the sink again.

"I didn't want you throwing your lives away for me. That's different," Harry protested. Hermione shook her head, growing frustrated.

"I don't want you throwing your lives away, full stop. It doesn't matter who or what you're doing it for. It is the same thing. I know you want to be an Auror, and for me it's going to take some time to come to terms with that, because all I can think of is 'haven't we done enough?', which I think is a pretty fair question, Harry," Hermione grabbed his hand and gripped it tightly.

"There's always more we can do. I don't want our kids growing up like we did. If I can change that, I will. Hermione, I can't imagine myself doing anything else," Harry squeezed her hand, but winced as her grip tightened further and her eyes bore into his own, frantic.

"Don't be the hero, Harry. Please," Hermione pleaded.

"Hermione, I don't intend on dying any time soon. I fully intend on coming home every night – that's what you're worried about? That Ron and I won't come back?"

"Fred is dead, Harry."

"I know that."

"I was tortured."

"I know that! Ron and I could hear you screaming and we couldn't do anything! Why are you reminding me of these things?" Harry's voice rose, but realised the time and lowered it quickly.

"And that didn't move you at all?" Hermione's brows furrowed together.

"Of course it did, Hermione. I still have dreams about the Manor. Where are you going with this?"

"Your decision to become an Auror isn't just going to affect you, Harry. You need to think about that. Just as what happened to one of us when we were on the run didn't just affect them. It affected all of us," Hermione swung her hands wide for emphasis, and the mug tipped over on the table, spilling its scalding contents. Hermione swore and stood up, grabbing a towel from the sink and mopping up the mess. She sat heavily on her chair again. Harry moved so he stood between her and the table, and took both of her hands.

"Hermione, I know this is a job with risks, more so than most occupations. It's dangerous, it's going to be difficult. I know. I've weighed all of this. It hasn't changed my mind."

"It's just – I know I sound like a raving lunatic right now-" At her words, Harry yanked her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her.

"No, you don't. You sound like a very concerned friend. It means the world, Hermione, that you're worried this much. But you have to let us do this." Hermione pressed her cheek against Harry's shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut.

"It's just, I already lost you two once. Do you know how awful it was, when Ron left? And when we all thought you were dead? I don't want to lose you again, either of you," Her voice shook as tears fell down her face and onto Harry's shirt. Harry made hushing noises and rubbed her back as it quivered with the force of her tears.

"Look. I can't promise that we'll never get hurt. Training itself is probably going to be tough. But I can say that we'll always come home. Okay? And we're just an owl or floo away. Or I can get us all cell phones. Two way parchment. This is going to be an adjustment for all of us. We've been fighting bad guys together since we were kids. It's going to be different now, doing that for the Ministry, and it's scary, but we can do this. I know we can," He whispered against her hair. Hermione nodded and calmed down enough to pull away and look up at him, swiping under her eyes at the wetness there.

"I'm sorry. I just think – everything with Fred, and the Manor and everything else-" Harry interrupted Hermione's explanation.

"I know, you don't need to explain. I'm just glad you told me how you felt about all this. Really. When things are changing so fast I think it's important we all keep one another in the loop," Harry's eyes searched Hermione's face. Satisfied with what he saw, he turned away and got another mug, and filled them both up.

"Absolutely. I'm sorry I cried all over your shirt," Hermione mumbled, embarrassed as she sat back down in her chair.

"Any time. Let's both have a cup of tea before we go to bed, shall we?" Harry put a teabag in both mugs, and Hermione gave him a small smile.

"Yes. Please." Hermione met Harry's eyes across the table. He nodded, eyes serious.

"We'll be okay, Hermione."

"Merlin I hope so." They drank their tea in a companionable silence. When they went upstairs, dawn was just starting to break on the horizon.

 **A/N: Hello! I just wanted to say that I am so, so humbled by these reviews. You are amazing!**

 **Replies to Reviews:**

 **Rose:** I'm glad you liked the send off. It just came to me, but I thought it was appropriate. It kind of included everything Fred and George represented, right? I know, I know. George has a long way to go before he'll be back to his joking self. Yes, that little tidbit is important - need to move the story along somehow! Harry and Hermione will get to Australia soon enough - please be patient!

 **Alex:** All I can say is WOW right back! I read your review and nearly cried (happy tears, of course!), it was so nice! You're awesome, Alex.

 **tlc125:** I'm glad you found the send off to be creative - I was trying to do something different and wasn't entirely sure how it was going to look. And you're welcome!

 **blackange:** Thank you for the corrections! I haven't spoken or written french in over six years, so I'm very out of practice. I appreciate your help! Glad you enjoyed the chapter.

 **Cheryl:** Thanks for saying it feels real - that tells me I'm doing my job as writer right! Welcome to my fanfic!

 **Emeroni:** Thanks lovely! Australia and happier chapters are coming - be patient! :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Update - June 7, 2017: I know you got a New Chapter Alert, but what I've done is actually added a chapter. Chapter FOUR (4) is new, and then the rest are as normal. Chapter Eight is also incoming. Sorry about the confusion!**

 **Chapter Seven**

"Ow, Hermione, that hurts!"

"Well, Ronald, if you'd just sit still instead of squirming I wouldn't have to press so hard."

"Just be _gentle_ , please."

"Would you rather I not help at all? Yeah, thought so," Hermione huffed. Ron sat, shirtless, on the edge of the bed whilst Hermione sat behind him. She had a stone bowl full of some sickly yellow paste in one hand, and her other hand was working the paste into his bruised body.

"Thanks for doing this. For making the poultice and for putting it on the, you know, harder to reach places," Ron mumbled, clearly uncomfortable.

"It's fine. This specialised Auror training must be intensive. I know that some of these are from spells, but what are the rest from?" Hermione asked, prodding a particularly dark bruise which, in turn, made Ron wince.

"Hand to hand combat," Ron uttered. It had been like this lately, between them. Hermione would ask a question and get only a few words in response. Not just with her, but with everyone else, too. She frowned, though Ron couldn't see her expression.

"That's unexpected. It makes sense, though. A way to throw those that rely upon magic off balance, because they think you'll use magic yourselves. If you know hand to hand, it gives you an advantage," Hermione mused. Ron nodded.

"Exactly."

"How is everyone doing?" Hermione asked, nearing his lower back. Ron twisted away from her hands momentarily before settling to let Hermione work.

"Okay. We're definitely learning, though not as quickly as our supervisor, Elias Grant, wants us to. Feel sorry for Nev though. He's better with the Sword of bloody Gryffindor than hand to hand. But we'll all get there. It's just… like you said, intensive. Yeah, that's a good word. You're always good with words," Ron ended the last bit on a sigh, as Hermione finished with his back and the paste started to take effect. Hermione moved to get off the bed, but Ron shifted to face her and rested a hand on a knee of one of her crossed legs.

"Don't leave just yet. I wanted to talk to you," Ron looked at her, suddenly serious through his tired eyes. Hermione leaned over to set the bowl on the bedside table and looked at him.

"What is it?"

"I thought… that after the War, we would, you know. Be together. I'm just wondering why we're not. I haven't been able to get you alone to ask what's going on." Ron watched as Hermione's mouth opened and closed a few times, before she sighed explosively and moved to slide her paste covered hand through her hair. She remembered at the last moment though and let her hand drop, arm resting on her thigh.

"There just didn't seem like a good time. You're all clearly still grieving over Fred, as well you should be. That's hardly the time to be talking about 'us', whatever that means," Hermione shifted on the bed and looked away.

"Is there an us? Look at me, Hermione, please. Just answer the question. I want to know where we stand. It's been killing me, not knowing. Okay, wrong choice of words. But I've been wanting to know for a while now," Ron, restless just sitting, stood and started the pace the length of his bedroom.

"I don't know, Ron. I want to…? But, I've been struggling."

"With what?"

"You left, Ron. Even now, that's still hard for me to deal with. Ask Harry, he can tell you how inconsolable I was. Didn't even talk to Harry for weeks," Hermione muttered, summoning a cloth and pouring water from her wand over it so she could wipe her hands.

"I thought we were past this, Hermione," Ron said as he halted his pacing progress over the floor of his bedroom to look at her with surprise on his face. Hermione shrugged.

"I thought so too, initially. But once all the action and adrenaline wore off it's been all I can think about. I'm still angry with you over it," Hermione used her wand to clean the cloth and started folding it in on itself.

"So what, you don't want to even give us a go? I'm attracted to you. I want to try this, with you. Don't you? Don't you feel anything? What about us sleeping beside each other for the last month? Nothing?" Ron flung his arms wide in his exasperation and Hermione could see the definition beginning to develop in his biceps, his abdomen. As Hermione looked, something warm curled tightly in her gut and her face flushed. She looked down at the cloth she was incessantly folding, suddenly embarrassed.

"See, you _do_ feel something," Ron stated, satisfaction filling his voice. Hermione, frustrated in more ways than one, threw the cloth down and stood up.

"Sure, yes, I am attracted to you. Is that what you wanted to hear? Physical attraction isn't everything Ron. It's not all I'm looking for – I can't be in a relationship that's purely physical," Hermione said, pacing.

"You think that's all we have?" Ron asked, dumbfounded. He plopped down on the bed, the fight gone from him.

"At the moment, yes. I realise that I'm attracted to you, but I wouldn't be able to form any sort of emotional relationship with you, because I'm still so angry. The only reason why I slept in your bed was because it seemed like the right thing to do – you'd lost Fred, I didn't want to fight, or make you sad. I've been taking care of you and Harry since we were kids, and you looked so sad, an-and afraid, and at the time it just seemed right. But I realise now, I can't be angry at you and want to take care of you, too. It confuses things. I can't have it both ways and neither can you. I'm sorry, Ronald," Hermione said, turning away from Ron to walk out of the room. Ron reached out and grasped her hand lightly.

"Hermione-" she ripped her hand out of his grasp and shook her head.

"That's all I have to say. I'll get Harry to come back in here, and go back to sleeping in Ginny's room." Hermione walked out of Ron's room and down the hallway, pushing Ginny's door open. She saw Harry and Ginny facing each other on the bed; Harry's hand was resting lightly on Ginny's cheek, and her eyes were closed. She was shaking her head. They both jumped and looked at the door when it opened.

"Ginny, is it okay-uh, sorry, I'll come back," Hermione spun around and closed the door, resting her back against it.

"Hermione-"

"Come back-"

"It's okay! I'll talk to you later!" Hermione spoke through the door. She scurried down the rest of the hallway and thundered down the steps to the main landing. She headed to the kitchen and stopped in her tracks when she saw Molly seated at the kitchen table, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue and looking wistfully at the family clock. Not wanting to intrude, Hermione started to back away, but Molly's attention had already been drawn.

"Hermione, please, come sit," Molly called.

"I don't want to intrude," Hermione said, peeking back around the corner.

"You're not intruding. I would love your company," Molly gave Hermione a smile as she spoke. Molly beckoned Hermione with one hand and waved her wand with the other. The still steaming kettle and a mug floated over to the table, where the kettle poured itself. Hermione sat down and huddled around her tea.

"How-what-how are you, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione finally committed herself to asking. Molly reached over and patted the younger woman's arm.

"It's difficult sometimes. The house is… far too quiet. I wanted to thank you though, for looking after the boys whilst they do this Auror program. I must admit to being a bit… out of touch lately," Molly murmured. Hermione squirmed under the matriarch's scrutiny.

"It's no problem, Mrs. Weasley. I know you worry, so if there's ever any way for me to help I will. It's the least I can do for you letting me stay here," Hermione said into her mug before she took a small sip, testing the temperature.

"Oh, Hermione dear, you're family. You can stay here for as long as you need. I wanted to ask, though. Have you thought about what you wanted to do now that you're done school?"

"Not really. I know I don't want to be an Auror. I had enough of fighting over this last year, and I know I can't make split-second decisions well enough to be good at it. Maybe teaching or healing. Working with the Ministry so that magical creatures have better rights. It's an adjustment, to now need to think about what I'm going to do next, considering what we did this year."

"Well, I hope whatever you choose to do, it makes you happy. I think we all need some happiness in our lives."

"Me too – you're right," Hermione agreed easily. She noticed Molly still looking at her with an intensity that was unsettling to her. Molly sighed.

"I heard you and Ron arguing upstairs. Like I said, the house is abnormally quiet," Molly mentioned casually, watching as Hermione's face reddened.

"Mrs. Weasley-"

"I know I haven't been present in the last month, but I have started cleaning your rooms every day when you're downstairs. Have been for the last week and a bit. That's how I know that you're not in the rooms you're supposed to be," Molly sat back with her tea, a bemused smirk on her face as Hermione's mouth opened and closed.

"Uh… Mrs. Weasley. We haven't-"

"Some of your books have migrated to Ron's room, and I have seen some of Harry's clothes in Ginny's."

"I'm moving back to Ginny's room, anyway so it's a moot point, but I want to say that nothing's happened, I swear. It's just sleep," Hermione spread her hands palms up on the table, in an effort to convince Molly of how truthful she was being. Molly gave a full, throaty laugh in response.

"I know, dear, I know. Merlin, as much as I'd like you to be, none of you are the children you used to be. You've all grown up right in front of my eyes," Molly sniffed, dabbing at her eyes once more, "at any rate, I am here for you all now. I don't even know how you've been feeling lately. Your parents are far away, and you've had to make such a sacrifice to keep them safe. Then I – and Arthur to a lesser extent – weren't there for you or anyone else."

"I don't expect- Fred was your son, of course you're going to be gutted. George is still gutted. First Sirius, then Dumbledore, then Fred… the sadness doesn't just go away," Hermione swiped at her own eyes this time. Molly reached forward and grasped one of Hermione's hands in her own.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew that you always have a place here. Even if things with you and Ron don't work out – do you want to talk about…?" Molly trailed off as Hermione shook her head.

"I'm still… sorting things out on my own, for now."

"Of course. You're family dear. Anything you need," Molly said, giving her a watery smile, which Hermione returned.

"Thank you. It means a lot. I miss them so much. I don't even know if I can reverse it. If I can even find them."

"Darling, you're heralded as the brightest witch of your age for a reason. You'll find them, and fix this. Never fear," Molly insisted as she let go of Hermione's hand and stood up.

"Thank you. Your support means… everything."

"Of course, Hermione dear. Now, are you hungry? I'm going to make some lunch."

"Absolutely. Let me help you," Hermione said as she stood and joined the Weasley matriarch at the sink.

* * *

Harry slumped in relief as Ginny worked the poultice in on his back. They were sitting much like how Ron and Hermione were in the next room.

"That is heaven, thanks Gin," Harry sighed as he spoke, and reached blindly behind him to pat Ginny's leg. Ginny shrugged.

"Hermione's the one that made the stuff," Ginny said, seemingly unwilling to welcome the praise. Harry made a move as if to twist so he could look at Ginny, but a wince warped his face. Harry got off the bed and sat back on it, this time facing Ginny. He wore an earnest expression.

"Ginny, you're still helping me. Why wouldn't I be thankful?"

"It's just… you've been so distant," Ginny murmured. She saw the look of confusion cross his face.

"Have I? It wasn't on purpose. I wanted you to be able to grieve properly for Fred, since you had that row with your mum. I was giving you the space to do that, I think," Harry pondered. Ginny nodded.

"That makes sense. I know I haven't really spoken to anyone much over since the row, anyway. So it's not just you. I appreciate it. It's… been hard," Ginny whispered, swiping under her eyes with jerky movements as tears started to flow.

"Gin…" Harry went to reach for her, but Ginny shook her head, clearing her throat.

"I'm sorry. I just can't seem to stop crying lately," Ginny mumbled. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, but despite her best efforts, tears continued to stream down her face.

"Ginny, please don't push me away," Harry murmured. He rested his hand on her cheek, rubbing the tears away. The door to Ginny's room burst open, and they both jumped apart.

"Ginny, is it okay-uh, sorry, I'll come back," Ginny and Harry watched as Hermione retreated and closed the door abruptly in her wake. The two belatedly called out to her.

"Hermione-"

"Come back-"

"It's okay! I'll talk to you later!" Hermione's slightly muffled voice sounded through the door and the sound of footsteps faded away downstairs. The two looked at one another resignedly.

"Never any privacy…" Ginny murmured, a soft smile on her features. Harry chuckled.

"Nope," he quipped. Ginny's smile disappeared and she looked at him, suddenly serious.

"Harry. I'm not in a place… I don't even know how to say this. I'm a wreck. I can't… I need time. Before we can, you know," Ginny said as she gestured between them. Harry nodded.

"Of course, Gin. I can wait-" Harry tried to reassure her, but Ginny was shaking her head.

"That's the other thing. I can't give you a timeline, I don't know when, or if I'll feel like I'm in the right place. Everything reminds me of Fred, of the good times and the bad, and it's just really overwhelming. You've sacrificed so much… don't throw away any happiness you find, even if it's not with me, okay?" Ginny shakily took Harry's hand and squeezed. Harry opened his mouth a few times, trying to find something to say.

"Gin-"

"Promise me. Please."

"I-okay. Promise," Harry squeezed Ginny's hand back.

"Thank you."

"I… I need to think," Harry pulled his shirt back on and left the room. Ginny lay back on her bed, giving into the maelstrom of tears and misery that she'd held at bay. He didn't deserve her, not like this. No one did.

* * *

"Alright, Weasley! Potter! Your turn – don't be nice on one another just because you're mates," Elias Grant watched as the two Aurors in training faced off with one another, wands at the ready. Grant used his own wand to shoot a sparks spell at their feet, signalling the start of their duel. Harry shot a spell at Ron, who easily deflected it.

"C'mon trainees! You're not mates, we've gone over this. Weasley's one of the Death Eaters we need to catch, and Potter is the Auror trying to apprehend you. Don't make it easy on each other!" Grant's voice boomed in the room as the other Aurors watched. Harry and Ron looked at each other for a moment; an agreement seemed to pass between them. Then spells started flying, even though both Ron and Harry were silent, as both had been practicing their nonverbal casting. Ron rolled out of the way of one of Harry's spells, fluidly moving back to his feet.

"Good maneuvering, Weasley. Potter, step it up!" Grant paced around them, giving them a wide berth as they moved. Suddenly, Grant cast a spell that sent Harry a few feet into the air. He landed in a heap on the floor. Ron spun and sent a spell at Grant, who deflected it easily.

"What the hell, Grant?" Ron growled.

"Death Eaters might be working together. Be aware of your surroundings at all times, Potter!" Grant called as Harry got to his feet.

"Right, sir." Harry mumbled, rotating his shoulders and moving the rest of his body in stages, as if checking for injuries.

"Hit me with everything you have, both of you. I'm going to show you how to face multiple opponents at once," Elias held his wand aloft. As one, Harry and Ron aimed spells at Elias, who dodged and blocked them with little effort.

"You can do better than that!" Grant roared, sending a spell at Ron. Harry sent a glance over at Ron, and shock allowed his wand to be spelled from his grasp. Ron was on the floor, his body contorting in pain as blood started to flow, blossoming over the grey joggers they all wore. Harry used wandless magic to disarm Grant as he ran over to Ron. Harry summoned his wand and started the incantation to reverse what only looked like the damage that _Sectumsempra_ caused, oblivious to the pandemonium that ensued as trainees

" _Vulnera Sanentur_ … _Vulnera Sanentur_ come on, why isn't this working? WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!" Harry spun and yelled at Grant as medical personnel rushed in. His voice halted all murmuring and the other trainees looked between Harry and Grant. Grant summoned his own wand and faced Harry.

"I was demonstrating how if you let but one single distraction pull your attention, you could be disarmed, or injured, or worse. That spell is one that the Death Eaters have concocted. You two were so concerned with watching each other's backs-"

"Isn't that what partners are supposed to do in a fight?" Neville stepped between Harry and Grant. Harry tried to push past his friend, protesting.

"Nev-"

"They're taking Ron to St. Mungo's. Go with them." Neville murmured.

"But-"

"Harry…?" A faint voice drew Harry's attention, and he knew it was Ron.

"I'm reporting you. Just because injuries can be healed with the wave of a wand, or a sip of a potion, does not mean that his was okay," Harry said, disgusted. With a scathing look to his supervisor, he rushed to Ron's side. The bleeding had been stopped, but Ron still looked pale as a winter's day.

"Harry? Where's-" Harry grasped Ron's hand.

"Here, mate. They're going to take you to St. Mungo's, okay? I'll meet you there."

"Feels like… Splinched," Ron murmured, his face scrunched up with the pain.

"You'll be alright. Take him," Harry murmured to the Mediwitches who were gathered around the stretcher he'd been placed upon. One of the tapped the stretcher with their wand, and they all disappeared. Harry, with one look behind himself at Neville, who gave him a resolute nod, raced out of the room and toward the lifts.

* * *

"Harry! Harry! Oh Merlin, is he alright?" Molly screeched as soon as she came around the corner to the waiting room and spotted Harry pacing. Harry turned to face Molly and she grasped him to her in a hug. Ginny, Arthur, and Hermione trailed not far behind.

"They're stabilising him now. He should be fine, they said, if he stays overnight."

"What in blazes happened?" Arthur asked, after extricating Molly from Harry.

"Supervisor sent a curse at Ron. Looked like he'd been Splinched. Mediwitches came right away and the bleeding was stopped before they transported him here," Harry reported.

"Well, I am going to go to the Ministry myself. How did Kingsley-"

"Kingsley missed nothing, Mother," A voice drifted to them from down the hall. Percy Weasley, looking a little worse for wear, strode toward them with purpose. He looked at everyone cautiously.

"But this supervisor-"

"Has been stripped of his position and pay. Permanently. The whole of the Streamlined Auror Trainee Program trouped into Kingsley's office just moments ago. They had Grant trussed and floating in front of them. He's not getting another job anywhere anytime soon," Percy's mouth tipped up in approval.

"How did you…?" Ginny's voice trailed off as she looked at her brother.

"I am still Undersecretary to the Minister, although for how long... anyway, I saw them all come in, and thought you ought to know. I must be heading back," Percy turned and started to walk away, but Arthur stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay with us, son." At Arthur's words, Percy's shoulders started to shake.

"How…? I betrayed you all."

"You had few little choices in the matter that did not end up with us burying two sons, instead of one. Your mother and I forgive you, son," Arthur murmured, tugging Percy into a hug.

* * *

Hours later, Hermione sat down beside Harry once again after exhausting herself of some restless pacing.

"Why is it taking so long? When Ron was Splinched, Dittany did the job just fine…" Hermione murmured, trailing off. Harry shrugged.

"Dunno. It looked like _Sectumsempra_ at first, so I did the _Vulnera Sanentur_ counter. Even that didn't work. Grant said that the curse was something the Death Eaters came up with," Harry murmured back, shrugging. Ginny, seated across from them, had fallen asleep on Molly's shoulder.

"That's bad, Harry."

"I know… look, I don't mean to bring this up now, but what did you want last week when you burst in us?"

"I am so sorry about that-"

"It's fine, don't worry. Just, what was it?"

"I wanted to room with Ginny again."

"Why?"

"I can't stay with Ron anymore, Harry."

"Okay. Ron will need help anyway, once he recovers. I don't mind switching back," Harry agreed easily enough.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's been awkward for Ginny and I lately, as well. I think we all just need to sort ourselves out," Harry mused. Hermione nodded, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah, I think so. Thanks."

"Weasley family?" A voice sounded in the waiting room. Not wanting to wake Ginny, Molly raised a hand. A Healer in white robes came over to them and sat down between mother and father.

"So, we've managed to keep Ronald stable for the last hour now, so he's going to be okay," an older man with kind eyes said to the group at large.

"Oh thank Merlin," Molly shuddered out a sigh of relief as she spoke.

"What happened?" Harry leaned forward. The Healer spent a moment scrutinizing Harry before speaking.

"The Mediwitches told me that you were speaking an incantation when they came in. One that they hadn't heard of. Was that right?" Harry squirmed under the man's piercing gaze.

"Yeah…."

"Well, whatever it was, it closed the worst of Ronald's internal injuries. Is it supposed to do that?"

"Sort of… I hadn't thought it worked, though," Harry murmured. The Healer gave him an odd look, but spread his hands wide in defeat.

"If it's some confidential Auror incantation – which has happened from time to time, thanks to those Unspeakables – then you're not allowed to tell me, and I get that. But without that incantation? Ronald wouldn't have been stabilised for another hour, at the least. With injuries like that you want your patient to be as stable as possible, so thanks for the assist. You can go see him now, but he is asleep. We have pumped Dittany directly into his system and it's working to close the wounds – slowly, but it's working, rest assured. He should be able to go home tomorrow, if he has shown progress overnight. See you tomorrow," the Healer got to his feet and gestured to the room on the right through the double doors, then turned and walked down the hall presumably toward the staff lounge.

"Ginny, wake up," Percy was at his sister's side, shaking her awake.

"Wha…?" she looked blearily around.

"Ron is going to be fine. We can go in and see him now," Percy helped Ginny to her feet. Harry and Hermione hung behind as everyone else went into the room. Arthur clapped Harry on the shoulder as he passed, giving him a grateful smile.

"Thank you," Arthur murmured. Harry shrugged.

"Of course. He's my best mate." Harry watched as they trickled in and out of the room in stages. Percy spent the least amount of time, and bustled quickly out of the room.

"Must report back to Kinglsey, excuse me-" he mumbled, brushing past and leaving the wing entirely. Ginny was the last to leave the room, and when she did, she threw herself at Harry.

"He looks so awful," Ginny whispered fretfully into his ear. Harry rubbed her back.

"Doctor – sorry, Healer, says he'll be fine. Don't worry, Gin," Harry said, passing her into the care of her parents whilst Harry and Hermione walked into the room together.

"Oh God," Hermione murmured as she swayed. Harry circled an arm around her waist for support as he too, felt weak looking at Ron. There were a few tubes connected to him, and an amber coloured liquid ran through one of them into him – the dittany, he supposed. He was pale as a sheet, with lacerations decorating his body.

"He does look better than he did," Harry whispered to Hermione, in an attempt to reassure her. In response, Hermione's breathing picked up and she started to shake. Harry pulled her over to a chair and pushed her head down between her knees.

"Harry," the word strangled herself from her throat as Harry ran soothing circles over her back.

"He'll be okay, Hermione."

"He looks like when he was Splinched," Hermione said weakly.

"I know."

"That was one of the scariest moments of my life. I thought we were going to lose him. He was bleeding so much," Hermione's breath hitched, and she brought her limp hands up to her face as she sat up. She shuddered, and Harry squeezed her shoulders, but Hermione shrugged him off, rushed to her feet, and out of the room. Harry sighed and sat in the seat that Hermione had just vacated. He looked over at Ron.

"Get better quick, mate. I don't think any of us can deal with anymore sadness." Harry swiped a hand tiredly over his eyes as the beeping of Ron's heart that filled the room lulled him into a fitful sleep.

 **A/N: Hello all! I'm sorry I haven't updated in AGESS - my muse seemed to have take a little vacation, and I was having trouble finding the motivation to write. But it's back now! Believe me, the happy and good stuff is coming, I promise :D**

 **Replies to Reviews:**

 **Pawsrule -** Thanks!

 **Emeroni -** HAHAAAAA what do you think Ron should have done after Hogwarts?

 **Cheryl -** Yeah and emotions will continue to be that way for the next little while, really. Thanks!

 **Guest -** Thank you!

 **Autumngold -** I don't think that she thinks it's any different for him, but that doesn't stop her from wanting to keep what amounts to her brother out of danger, you know? Glad you're enjoying it :)

 **Alex -** Awww I am trying my best here - I only got into writing HP fanfiction around a year ago, though I have always loved the characters. I am so glad that you're liking it so much! And that's alright, it happens haha.

 **Rose -** Omg that makes me so happy that you're so looking forward to updates - I am also very sorry that his one has been soooo long in coming. Uhm, them bunking was kind of something that just happened that they've done over Molly's nose - not to slight her or anything, but just because they wanted the support that the other person could give them. All they did was sleep, though! I am so happy that you're happy with how this is going :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Hermione sat on the couch of The Burrow's sitting room. Books and papers were splayed out around her; they littered the table, the floor, and the couch she sat on.

"Hermione?" She looked up to see Ron in the doorway, looking a little pale. Hermione jumped up and rushed over to him.

"Ron! You're supposed to stay in bed and rest! Why on earth would you go down so man stairs by yourself?" Hermione hooked his arm over her shoulders and took some of his weight, steering him to the couch. She sshoved some papers aside to make room and helped him to sit. He heaved a huge sigh once he was settled back against the pillows. Some of the colour he'd lost was starting to return to his face.

"I was bored upstairs. I'm nearly healed, Hermione. I just wanted to do something myself," Ron murmured, clearly exhausted.

"I get that, Ron," Hermione said in hushed tones as she sat beside him, gathering her work and putting it into some semblance of order on the table in front of them.

"What're you doing?" Ron asked through a wide yawn.

"Reading reports about the Obliviate spell being used, reversed, and the ensuing results. Kingsley sent them over this morning."

"Wouldn't it be a conflict of interest, for you to reverse the spell on your own parents?" Ron asked, an expression of befuddlement on his face. Hermione shook her head.

"Kingsley doesn't seem to think so. Since such a large portion of my parent's memories were removed, the best person to reverse it is the person who cast it, apparently." Hermione sighed as she glanced at the sizable stack of papers in front of her.

"This is all you've been doing all day," Ron stated, looking at her blearily, confirming his suspicions when Hermione nodded.

"What time is it? Oh, I've missed lunch," Hermione murmured upon looking at her watch.

"Nearly dinner too, you know." Ron patted her shoulder in a familiar way, and Hermione glanced over at him for a moment before taking a report from the top of the stack, beginning to read once more.

"I'll eat later," Hermione assured Ron, who, unbelieving, scoffed.

"Not bloody likely. You're going to run yourself to exhaustion, and then you'll be no good to anyone, especially your parents. You can do this, Hermione. I have faith it'll work out. So should you," Ron insisted softly. Hermione glanced over at him; his lacerations he'd suffered at the hands of that spell had mostly healed at this point, a week later. The healer had said when he'd gone for a checkup yesterday that everything was coming along nicely.

"I still can't believe this Grant person did that to you," Hermione breathed, with a nod at his injuries. Ron shrugged.

"He reminded me of Mad-Eye, a bit. Well, not _our_ Mad-Eye. The impostor," Ron clarified.

"Ron, the impersonator-"

"Was a Death Eater, I know. But he was very much all about the experience of it all, right? Could definitely see him telling the upper years to cast spells on one another so they knew what they felt like and could recover quickly. And while Grant went about it definitely the wrong way, he had a point – Harry and I were watching each other's backs too closely that it distracted us. We weren't as effective that way, and Grant proved it," Ron maintained.

"Well, I suppose you do have a point. But still, Grant was completely out of line. He could've killed you. St. Mungo's might not have been able to stabilise you in time. You do know how seriously you were injured right? It could have ended… badly." Hermione informed him. Ron nodded.

"I do. But, as you said, it could have been much worse. I'll be okay, 'Mione." There was a companionable silence between them for a while as Hermione continued to read and make notes. After some time, she glanced over at him to find he was sound asleep. She reached out to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of his face – he'd let his hair grow out far too much this time – but stopped herself from inches away.

"Ugh, this is so confusing!" Hermione groaned, putting her head in her hands.

"What's confusing?" Hermione's head snapped up to see Harry leaning against the doorframe, clad in a charcoal blazer and trousers, with a black button-down and a green tie to match his eyes. She looked quizzically at his clothing – Harry tended to wear clothes until they were so run down they were see-through, and he loathed formal clothing. She shrugged it off for the moment and twiddled her quill between her fingers.

"Just – looking at these reports that Kingsley sent over. I think I'm crazy to want to give my parents their memories back now," Hermione murmured, trying not to wake Ron. She swiped her hands over her face, clearly stressed out. Harry looked at her in surprise.

"What? Why wouldn't you restore their memories?" he asked, confused.

"It's… complicated," Hermione said, finally deciding upon a word that fit. Harry reached out and took the report out of her hands, then grasped them to pull her to her feet.

"Well, why don't we go to the kitchen to eat dinner – if I know you, I know you' haven't eaten all day. You can tell me all about it." Harry moved past her to maneuver Ron so that he was lying on the couch, instead of sleeping sitting up. Harry stuffed a pillow under his head and draped a blanket over him. Ron's eyes fluttered open.

"H-Harry?" he croaked, looking blearily at his friend.

"Yeah mate. Just have a nap okay?"

"Okay…" Ron's voice trailed off as he slipped back into slumber. Harry and Hermione made their way to the now-empty kitchen.

"Molly's doing laundry. Arthur's tinkering in his shed. I think everyone's gone to their rooms, really, now that dinner is done. So there's no one around." Harry waved his wand at the two covered plates by the sink, and they floated over to the table. Hermione uncovered the one nearest her, and summoned utensils in order for them both to dig in. She took a ravenous bite, humming with appreciation.

"Love shepherd's pie," Hermione murmured.

"Molly seems to be cooking again," Harry commented upon tasting the food.

"Wait, you weren't home for dinner either? I meant to ask – why are you in a suit?"

"The Malfoy trials," Harry clipped, not bothering to elaborate.

"Whose?" Hermione asked.

"Narcissa. Lucius' is next week, Draco's the week after."

"Surely the Wizengamot could have left you alone," Hermione muttered in disbelief.

"Nope. I was called in as a witness. So I had to be there. I was the only one that could testify on Narcissa's behalf that she lied to Riddle, for instance," Harry reminded her. Hermione nodded.

"That makes sense. I just wish you didn't have to do it. I know how much you hate the press."

"This one wasn't so bad; it was in one of the smaller courtrooms, so it was just the Wizengamot, witnesses, and a few members of the press. It's Lucius' that will be the madhouse. It's in Courtroom Ten," Harry said with a moue of distaste. Hermione winced.

"That'll be awful!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah. The spectacle of it all, while I understand it, is awful. That family has been vilified enough. Humiliated enough. Don't get me wrong, they do need to be punished for the things they have done that were unlawful," Harry reassured Hermione's raised eyebrows.

"Just not to be thrown into the snake pit, so to speak," Hermione finished. Harry nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Exactly." There was silence between the two as they focused on their food. When Hermione pushed her plate away, full, Harry looked at her expectantly.

"Right. My turn, eh? Kinglsey sent over some files from when people have been obliviated and what the result was when their memories were returned to them. Heavily redacted, of course. But looking at it all just makes me wonder if I should even give them their memories back at all," Hermione sighed morosely.

"What in those files makes you think that?" Harry wondered.

"Well, there's the one case. She was assaulted by a family member for years until she finally said something to a friend. To help her out, the friend obliviated those memories, because her health had been deteriorating. The friend got her to become her roommate and her heath improved immensely."

"I sense a 'but' coming," Harry ventured. Hermione nodded.

" _But_ with her missing memories, she also lost her gut instinct, and she found herself in some troubling situations. Seeing this, her friend decided to return these memories, and while that process was successful, the emotional and mental toll it took on her was too much, and she committed suicide."

"Blimey….."

"Yeah… there was another case, where this eight year old boy exploded his cat – yes, his cat, the feline scratched him and he got angry – and the MLE removed the memory. They thought it was best, since that's rather traumatic for an eight year old. When this boy was an adult, he had a particularly vindictive girlfriend, and she tried to restore that memory to get back at him for something he supposedly did – clearly his parents had told the girlfriend about this erased memory – and it backfired. He's now in a vegetative state in the Janus Thickley ward in St. Mungo's. There are dozens of similar cases. It just… neither outcome seems ideal. Either they get their memories restored and it causes them distress, or the spell itself doesn't work and damages them further. Harry, I don't know what to do…." Hermione trailed off, looking forlornly at the plate of crumbs she'd shoved away.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Harry asked, watching as Hermione's eyebrows scrunched together as she thought.

"I want my parents back, Harry. But…."

"But?"

"What if, I restore their memories, and it works, and they're fine, but they're not my parents?" Hermione pulled her bottom lip between her teeth at the thought.

"You lost me."

"What I mean is – they've been completely different people for nearly a year now. What if, even when their memories are restored, they don't feel… you know, parental? What if that relationship is gone? I don't know if I can bear that." Hermione sighed and put her head in her hands, defeat in the curve of her slumped over form. Harry reached over and patted her shoulder.

"Hermione, they're still your parents, even if they don't automatically share the same feelings you do. You rebuild that relationship, that's all. I imagine it'll be bloody difficult, but it'll be worth it after all you've been through. Your parents are alive, Hermione. You should embrace that, no matter how Mr. and Mrs. Granger come back to you. No matter what they remember. Don't give up on them," Harry murmured. Hermione sniffed, and Harry realised she'd been crying. She sat back up and swiped under her eyes.

"It's just… it's hard to think they won't be the same people I remember last, you know? They've been in Australia, they've had all these experiences, not even knowing they had a child eighteen years ago, because I felt that this was the best way to protect them. I took their choices away, Harry-" Hermione's watery eyes snapped to his as he interrupted.

"What choice did they have? They don't have wands. They stood no chance whatsoever against the Death Eaters. Just by associating with me got a target on your back from those sods. Your parents weren't safe, with no way to protect themselves against magic. They couldn't have Auror members with them for the indefinite future. What we did in a year with the horcruxes could've taken much longer. You made the right decision, Hermione."

"Then why does it feel like I messed up?" Hermione shakily inhaled a breath. She dashed her fingers underneath her eyes again, getting rid of tears that refused to stop falling. Harry used his wand to conjure a red handkerchief and passed it to his friend. She took it gratefully and rubbed her face with it.

"You care about them. You did something necessary, but life altering. It's bound to leave you with doubts. Hell, I had doubts constantly whilst we were on the run. Every year in school, really. It's because it matters to you." Harry shrugged. Hermione pegged him with a shrewd look.

"When did you get so smart?"

"It was bound to happen eventually. All the time I was around you," Harry quipped, giving her a smirk. She hit him gently in the shoulder.

"Prat."

"Guilty. You should go get some sleep, 'Mione. You look done in. You've been looking nonstop at those files, I bet. You need to sleep."

"You're right. I'm going to go upstairs now. Thanks, Harry."

"Course. Night Hermione."

* * *

 _"_ _Revertetur Memorias!"Hermione waited with baited breath as the gray light surrounding her parent's heads gradually disappeared. When the light disappeared and they continued to sit still in their chairs, Hermione stepped closer._

 _"_ _Mum? Dad?" She waved her hands in front of their faces. Their eyes didn't track the movement. They didn't blink. All they did was breathe. And stare right through her._

 _As if she'd never existed._

* * *

"Hermione, wake up. Oi!" Hermione shot upright, breaths wheezing past her constricted throat. Her cheeks were wet, and she swiped at them. Ginny sat on her bed, clad in her dressing gown, hand resting on Hermione's arm.

"Sorry, Gin. Go back to bed," Hermione said absently, setting her feet on the cold floor and standing.

"You alright?"

"Just a bad dream. I'm going to go down, have some tea to soothe my nerves before I go back to sleep."

"Okay then… if you want to talk…?"

"I'll come to you, Ginny. Thanks." Hermione gave her friend a tired smile before leaving the room. Ginny moved back to her own bed, but it was a long time before sleep claimed her.

Everyone seemed to have sleepless nights.

* * *

Harry sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea. He watched the steam rise from the freshly poured liquid, but that soon disinterested him.

He didn't sleep well. It had gotten worse since Ron had gotten hurt, too. He'd been an idiot to think that bad things would stop happening because Riddle was gone. He jumped when one of the stairs in the hallway creaked. Someone was coming downstairs. He wasn't surprised when Hermione appeared in the entrance to the kitchen.

"Couldn't sleep either then?" Hermione murmured tiredly, as she summoned a mug and had the kettle pour the still hot water into it. Harry dropped tea leaves into the water and watched them swirl and eddy around.

"Unfortunately."

"How are you even surviving the training program with so little sleep?" Hermione sat down beside him. Harry shrugged.

"It's on hold until they find us a new instructor, so that's neither here nor there right now."

"I could make you a Sleeping Draught, if it's that bad. All you have to do is ask, you know," Hermione huffed.

"You going to make one for yourself whilst you're at it? Didn't think so," Harry grumbled.

"Watch your tone," Hermione gently chided. Harry had the grace to look properly chastised.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to get so surly with you. I'm just an idiot, I'm angry about it, and taking it out on you."

"You're not an idiot," Hermione quickly came to his defence. Harry shook his head.

"I was naive. I thought we'd stopped the fighting, the deaths, by getting rid of Riddle. But Ron still got hurt. The bloody attacker wasn't even a Death Eater. It was our instructor. How am I supposed to prepare for something like that? How could I have prevented that, Hermione?"

"You can't prepare for something like that. Grant was out of line. We just have to be thankful that Ron survived and try to move past it," Hermione stated, resolute. Harry sighed.

"I wish I were as sure as you in that. Every time I close my eyes, I see him on the floor, bleeding out," Harry whispered, shuddering.

"I know. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I thought violence like that, cruel magic like that, was finished, you know?" Harry said in a small voice.

"There will always be someone willing to use magic like that to get their way. We can't forget that. That's why you're becoming an Auror, to stop that from happening. You did everything you could for Ron. The healer said that you'd helped Ron. That's good enough for me. You helped save his life," Hermione insisted, pushing Harry's tea in his hands and prodding him to drink. When Harry took a sip, the shaking throughout his body smoothed out bit by bit.

"It's just… it's hard."

"It's always going to be hard. We were never kids, Harry. We were always fighting something. As an Auror, that's not going to stop, either. That's just the way things are. Just because we get rid of some devilishly evil wizard doesn't mean that there aren't tossers and idiots out there that think using magic in bad ways to get what they want is cool. You're going to be there to uphold the law," Hermione reminded Harry, who was relaxing the more she spoke. He finally nodded after a long silence.

"Yeah. You're right."

"Of course I am," Hermione quipped loftily, making Harry chuckle. He set his tea down and tapped his ragged fingernail on the wood, clearly thinking.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you feel as though sometimes we're… intruding?" Harry asked, hesitant. Hermione shrugged.

"I love Molly and Arthur, but… sometimes? Especially during all the funerals, because their sadness was so… different than ours. Fred is like family to us, but Fred _is_ family to them. So it has been kind of overwhelming. Why do you ask?"

"Oh thank Merlin. I thought I was the only one feeling that way. Well, I've never lived, like, by myself. Or with fewer than four people – I'm not counting the last year, because that was running, not living," Harry clarified. Hermione nodded.

"Agreed. Go on."

"Well, I was thinking of going to stay at Grimmauld Place. But I didn't want to live there completely by myself. I think I'd go nutters. But since you feel the same way I do about the intruding…."

"What about Ginny?" Hermione asked. Harry's hopeful expression shuttered a bit.

"Uh-well, uh, I don't want her parents to get the wrong idea. At any rate, we're on a break right now."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I think we both have things we need to figure out. I think we need to take the time to be ourselves first, without the weight of the war over our heads, before we make any decisions about moving forward, you know?" Harry turned his mug in a circle, not meeting Hermione's eyes. He was clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.

"I think that's a good idea."

"Me too," Harry said on a sigh, scrubbing at his bloodshot eyes.

"So what are you asking, Harry?"

"D'you want to live at Grimmauld Place? Be roommates?" Harry waited with baited breath as Hermione's mouth twisted in thought. When Hermione looked at him, she smiled.

"Let's do it."

 **A/N: I am back! Sorry about not updating for so long. Life, you know. I just haven't been in a writing mood. But don't worry - these stories will not be abandoned. I am now going back to updating my three fics in a rotation. See my profile for the order.**

 **Replies to Reviews:**

 **pawsrule** **:** Glad you're looking forward to more!

 **Cheryl:** I am so, so glad you're liking it and it reads well and it seems realistic. You're awesome :D

 **Alex:** Thank you! Yeah, I thought Hermione would be angry at Ron for a longer amount of time too. Glad we agree!

 **Autumngold:** The attack was deliberate. Ron kind of explains it in this chapter. I hope it helps! And aw shucks. Thanks!

 **Emeroni:** The "Happy stuff" is incoming, I swear Em. Glad you're "living" it! ;P

 **HeartsGlow:** There is a possibility that the Ministry is still corrupt. Just because Kingsley is back as Minister doesn't mean everything is right as rain, in my opinion. He has to do this delicately. As for the spell, I doubt the healers would trust it coming from Snape. But this is just my telling. Thanks for your reviews!

 **Rose:** Yes, oh man, it always seems really heated between Ron and Hermione, doesn't it? I wanted them to have a mature, adult conversation, haha. I am glad you are finding it realistic, it's what I strive for!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 _Dear Harry and Hermione,_

 _Why don't you two come to the house for dinner on Sunday? We would love to have you both there._

 _Love,_

 _Molly and Arthur_

* * *

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _George is worse than before, Hermione. I don't know what to do or what to say. I haven't been able to get him to leave his room. Any ideas? He seemed to take comfort from you at the funeral, so I'm open to any suggestions you have. Maybe you could come see him? Please come back, we miss you._

 _I miss you,_

 _Ginny_

* * *

"Hermione! I'm home!" Harry's voice drifted into the kitchen where Hermione was standing, looking at the letters she'd received. There was a sealed letter with Harry's name on it, scrawled in Ron's handwriting.

"In the kitchen! We got more letters!" Hermione shouted back, placing the new letters she'd gotten in with the steadily growing pile on the counter. She looked at the sizable pile and sighed, shoulders slumping. Harry dropped his bag by the dining table and picked up his letter, sitting down to read it.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Things are barmy without you and Hermione here to keep us all in line._

 _Please come back,_

 _Ron_

"Who were the other letters from?" Harry asked, adding the letter to the pile.

"Molly, Arthur, Ginny… take your pick," Hermione huffed, sitting down at the table opposite Harry.

"Why are you so angry about it? They're just letters," Harry asked, bewildered at Hermione's tone.

"Can't they just leave us be? I mean, we've only been gone two weeks and they're acting like it's been months. The only person who hasn't written to us is George, and that's because - according to Ginny - he's gone back to not doing anything," Hermione flung her hands up helplessly.

"You feel like it's your fault that George is back to the way he was," Harry observed, scrutinising her across the table. Hermione sighed.

"Yes, I do. Don't you?"

"Nope. Look, Hermione, George will have days even twenty years from now when he probably won't want to leave his room. That's just how he's chosen to grieve."

"Ever since we moved they've just been bombarding us with letters Harry. I'd just like a little bit of peace and quiet is all," Hermione grumbled.

"I just don't think they understand Hermione. When you're a family as big as theirs, there's always someone from the family around. Even if they're not actually around, they're around. They mean well," Harry attempted to comfort Hermione, but realised it was falling on deaf ears. He could see the burning in her eyes, her sigh of frustration.

"I know they consider us family. They have since the start. I know it's going to be an adjustment for everyone. But it doesn't mean I have to like the daily owls," Hermione grumbled, putting her face in her hands. Harry sat down beside her on the couch.

"What's wrong? It's not just the letters."

"Looking at documents about the procedures during the war to safeguard those that travelled from England to Australia. I know Kingsley is busy, but this is just taking too long so I thought I would do some research," Hermione sighed, glaring down at the papers strewn over the table.

"And?" Harry glanced at her expectantly.

"My parents went to Australia on their own, presumably, without any help from the Ministry here. However, I've looked up Wendell and Monica Wilkins and found nothing. Which may mean that they do not have an electronic footprint, or…"

"They got mixed in with the people fleeing England at the time. Can you detect an _Obliviate_ spell on someone else?" Harry asked.

"I think the Obliviators that work for the Ministry probably can. Maybe the Australian Ministry can, too, and noticed. Either way, they're in the wind at the moment," Hermione murmured dejectedly. She slumped back on the couch, and Harry joined her.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry murmured, taking one of her hands in his.

"Me too. I hope Kingsley can find them."

"He will," Harry reassured her. Hermione took her hand out of Harry's and gestured to the pile of papers he'd brought home.

"So, how has work been? Still in training, I assume?" Harry shrugged.

"Sort of? We are all looking at cold cases now while they try to find a replacement."

"Any prospects yet?"

"A few, but it's going slowly because they have instituted more security and wellness checks into the hiring process so what happened to Ron doesn't happen again," Harry informed her, a shadow sliding through his eyes at the thought. Hermione nudged his leg with hers, to try and get his attention from sinking too far into the memory.

"That's good. Really good. The more cautious they are the better; things are still much too tenuous to risk people's lives over a miscalculation," Hermione tried to reassure him, but she could see that his gaze was still dark. He visibly shook himself, as if that would bring his mind back to the present. A mischievous grin took over his face.

"You know what else? Kingsley wanted Ron and I as the replacements," Harry shook his head with the incredulity of it all, but chuckled at Hermione, whose mouth gaped open.

"You didn't - why didn't you?"

"Well, Ron's still not fully healed, for one. Another is that Ron and I are set to a much higher standard than anyone else because we actually fought in the war. It's way too stress inducing. This is very different from when we ran Dumbledore's Army. We don't know them, we've all had different education-"

"The majority of you would have been to Hogwarts," Hermione interjected. Harry waved his hand impatiently.

"Yes, but Ron and I have had way more 'field experience' as it were and less book experience. Some of the trainees have studied stuff for years that we've seen in person. We have so many gaps in our education it would be like we were both Lockhart trying to teach Defense again. Neither of us wanted that, so we told him no. Hence, more cold cases to look at," Harry grumbled, waving a hand at the pile of folders that held the Ministry insignia.

"Okay, enough of that. You'll get that replacement soon. What do you want for dinner? I'll cook," Hermione offered, getting up and walking into the kitchen. Harry scoffed.

"Better you than me. Don't want to burn the house down," Harry said, grimacing. Hermione spun back around to look at him, rolling her eyes.

"Honestly, Harry, it was just _one_ frying pan. And you're a wizard, remember? All you need is practice, Harry. I'll make that stew, how's that sound?" Hermione asked as she cluttered about in the kitchen.

"Heavenly," Harry groaned, stretching languidly before turning bleary eyes toward the kitchen. Hermione came through the door moments later. Concern shone from her eyes as she sat beside Harry.

"It'll cook itself. Are you okay, Harry?"

"I'm fine, just tired," Harry murmured. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him - not that he saw, since his eyes were closed - and sighed.

"I can feel you looking at me, Hermione. I'm fine."

"How much are you sleeping?"

"Enough," Harry assured, eyes still closed. Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes in disbelief.

"Oh yes, those bags really tell me you've gotten enough sleep. A-are you having nightmares?" Harry finally opened his eyes at her hesitant question.

"Some. It's not any worse than before. No better either, but not worse. Should I be asking you the same thing?" Harry arched an eyebrow.

"You just look really tired, Harry."

"That's exactly what I need to hear from my roommate," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"It's true; they're working you all too hard with those cold cases while they're looking for that replacement," Hermione murmured, pegging Harry with a stare that made him squirm.

"What?" Harry asked defensively.

"What you slept at all since they started you on those cold cases." Hermione demanded. Harry ducked his head.

"You should be an interrogator, Hermione. You'd be bloody good at it," Harry complimented.

"Well?" Hermione waited a few moments, watching Harry avoid her gaze, before he heaved a huge sigh.

"Not really, okay?" Harry admitted sullenly.

"I know we spoke about this briefly before we moved here, but with the actual move we never fully finished the conversation - do you want me to brew some Sleeping Draught for you? You wouldn't be able to take it every day due to its addictive reagents, but you'll be able to take it on nights that are particularly difficult," Hermione offered. Harry threw a grateful smile her way.

"I would appreciate that," Harry gratefully reached out a hand to touch hers, sending a small smile her way.

"I'll start a batch tonight. It's not a replacement for anything, but it will help until you sort yourself out," Hermione reassured him, standing up as if to go start the potion, but Harry still held her hand.

"Thanks, Hermione. I know I don't make any of this easy, with the whole asking for help thing..." Hermione scoffed.

"It's like pulling teeth, Harry. But you do need your rest if you're going to be out fighting in the field. Can't help if you're asleep on the job. But this is only a temporary fix, mind you. You're still going to have to do some work to be able to manage them, or something," Hermione waved her hand dismissively, not wanting to bring up therapy too soon. She waved her wand and the stew floated into the room, along with some bowls and utensils.

"Yeah I will. I just need some time… you know?"

"Yeah, I do. Now eat or the stew is going to get cold," Hermione urged. Harry started eating with gusto, like he always did. Hermione followed suit, not realising she was hungry until the first bite went into her mouth.

"So what have you been doing?" Harry asked between bites.

"A few things. I've been reading the seventh year course content in the event that Hogwarts reopens, but I don't think that's going to happen soon. I wrote Hagrid last week and he said parts of the castle were still in shambles."

"You want to go back?" Harry asked, surprised. Hermione sent a confused look his way.

"Of course I do. Don't you?"

"Hadn't really thought about it, to be honest. It would be nice to finish, but… too many bad memories there, now. I don't think I can go back. Least not right now anyway," Harry clarified.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

Hermione looked at Harry.

"You expecting anyone?" Hermione shouted as she walked to the door.

"No!" came Harry's shouted response. Hermione opened the door to find Ginny standing on the doorstep. Her hair was lank, skin sallow, purple bruises under her eyes from complete and utter exhaustion. Hermione could hear footsteps behind her, Harry coming to join them to see who was at the door.

"Gin." Harry's response was brittle; Hermione could see the tension that now sang in his arms, his shoulders, at seeing her. Hermione shoved him back toward the kitchen.

"Get another bowl of stew out," Hermione ordered. Harry gave her a bewildered look, but when Hermione's hands again gestured toward the kitchen, insistent, Harry moved away from the door.

"Can I come in?" Ginny moved from foot to foot, unsure of her welcome. Hermione put her arm around the taller woman's waist, guiding her inside.

"Of course. Ginny, what's wrong? Are you poorly?"

"I just… needed to get away. I didn't know where else to go. I know you both are still settling in-" Ginny stopped as Hermione waved a hand.

"It's neither here nor there. I'm just happy that you came to us, instead of wandering around." Hermione led Ginny to the kitchen, where Harry sat, a bowl of steaming stew in the place opposite him. Ginny sat and clutched the silverware so hard her knuckled mottled, but made no move to eat. She looked blankly at the bowl, as if seeing something else entirely. Harry hesitantly reached a hand across the table, keeping it inches from her own.

"Gin?" Despite the tension that still stiffened the set of his shoulders, worry shone in his eyes. Ginny blinked, and awareness swept in. So did the sorrow, and the anger.

"I'm sorry. I'm not paying attention. This smells really good. I'm just not hungry," Ginny murmured, pushing the bowl away and resting her head atop her arms that were folded on the table. Hermione, still standing, sent Harry a look, clearly asking what to do. Harry sighed, and moved his chair closer to Ginny, resting a hand on her back.

"Gin, talk to us," Harry pleaded. Ginny's form shuddered and she moved to rest her head on Harry's shoulder, to Harry's surprise. Hermione moved to them then, and ran her hand soothingly through Ginny's hair. Ginny heaved a huge sigh at the contact.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Hermione patted Harry's shoulder and moved swiftly up the stairs to give them privacy.

"Gin, what's wrong? Talk to me. We're both worried about you," Harry urged, running a hand in soothing lines down her quivering back. He could feel the knobs of her spine. _Too thin._ Alarm coiled in the pit of his stomach.

"Harry, I just feel so… I don't know what to do," Ginny mumbled the words into her arms.

"What is it?" Harry pulled his chair closer to hers so he could hear.

"The Burrow is a mausoleum now. Mum just sits at the kitchen table. Dad is in the garage with his Muggle things and never comes out. Ron is nearly fully healed from that barmy instructor but even he's retreated into himself. And George… oh, George. He hasn't left his room since the funeral. Never comes out. I've spent whole nights camped out by his door and I've never heard a sound. I don't know how to help him, Harry."

"I think just knowing you're there will help him. It is all going to take some time. For everyone," Harry explained patiently.

"Oh, and of course Mum thinks I'm an ice cold bitch for not crying for Fred. Just because I haven't cried doesn't mean I'm not sad he's gone. Most days I can barely breathe past the tension in the house. Everyone walking on eggshells. I don't know how long I can keep doing this," Ginny muttered, heaving a huge sigh before turning her head slightly to look at Harry. Looking back at her, Harry could see that while her eyes were dry, they were stark and bleak with helplessness and despair.

"Do what, Gin?"

"Try and hold everyone together. I've been making the dinners that no one eats; we've got so much food now I should have brought some with me for you two. I've been trying to talk to Mum, Dad, Ron. Even just a simple 'morning' and that gets ignored. The house would have been infested with Doxies after you two left, because everyone is just content to wallow - I've done the cleaning, the cooking, the laundry… and everyone is just _sitting there!_ " Ginny shouted the last two words and immediately covered her mouth, looking toward the stairs, breathing heavily. When Hermione didn't come down the stairs, or give any indication that she had been disturbed, Ginny sighed and leaned her head back against the chair. Her eyes closed, jaw taut from clenching her teeth but her breathing didn't slow down.

"Breathe, Ginny. You're going to pass out." Ginny took a deep, gasping breath and turned sorrowful eyes to Harry.

"I just want to feel something other than _this_ ," Ginny spread her arms out, "Even for a little while." Ginny reached her hand out and brushed her fingers along his hand. Harry's swift intake of breath was the only indication that he'd noticed. Their eyes met.

"Ginny…."

"I know what I said. And I stand by it. No strings, no expectations. Just a fun time, so we can… leave all this behind for a bit. I know you haven't been sleeping, either," Ginny murmured, sliding her hand up his arm to rest on his cheek. Harry sighed and closed his eyes, and Ginny took her chance to lean over and press her lips to his. It was gentle, and sweet. When they pulled apart, Ginny stood and held out her hand to him. Harry took it, and led her past the kitchen into the hallway beyond.

 **A/N: Hey everyone!** **My apologies for the extra long hiatus from writing - I have been quite busy and was not in the writing mindset. I have also really struggled with this last chapter, so I am aware that this might not be my best work.** **Going forward, I will only be updating one story at a time until completion. I have yet to decide which one to work on, but you will find out soon which one!**


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